The Blood Donor
by BathshebaRocks
Summary: Sookie thought she could dabble in the vampire world and just walk away, but her decision to take a night's work at Fangtasia had unforseen consequences.  Now back in Louisiana she'd love to stay out of Vampire politics - but it won't be easy - COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_**This story was inspired by a plot suggestion from teewhy1977 and the San Diego fanfic readers group - thanks girls, this one is for you.**_

_**The characters and setting belong to Charlaine Harris of course. The story is set mainly in the SVM world (although I haven't been able to prevent a few TB elements creeping in). The starting point is where the books start, although its a bit later in time (post Katrina). Some of the familiar characters will be here, some won't. Some themes will follow the books, some won't. The story is told from Sookie's point of view, unless otherwise indicated.**_

**_If you've just discovered the story and decide to read on, please do let me know what you think - feedback is always much appreciated._**

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><p>I'd sorted the bills every which way: by due date, by amount, by urgency. Nothing made any difference. Whichever way I looked at them, I owed more than I had in my checking account and my meagre savings put together, and more than I would earn in the next month.<p>

Northern Louisiana wasn't immune to the economic problems of the country. We were a poor State anyway and the closure of one of the few remaining factories in Monroe had impacted on everyone; including Sam Merlotte's bar where I worked as a waitress. Sure, it was the only bar in town and lord knows people still needed the drink and the company, but they drank less and tipped smaller. I couldn't blame them of course; I knew I wasn't the only one suffering.

Things were just so much harder since Gran had passed away. Hardly a day went by when I didn't miss her. She'd been the one constant presence in my life since my parents had died, always there for me with a shoulder to cry on and a slice of her legendary pecan pie when things got tough. Now I had to face the financial as well as the emotional consequences of losing her. Her small pension had been just enough to cover the running expenses of our old farmhouse, and my wages and tips had paid for food, clothes and everything else we needed.

I'm not an extravagant person; I don't socialise much, I buy most of my clothes from the thrift shop, or discounted at my friend Tara's dress shop at the end of each season. I run an old car but that's pretty much a necessity, living as far out of town as I do. There was just nothing I could cut back on, which meant I had to find another source of income somehow.

My brother Jason was all for me using my 'gift'. He had many creative suggestions for how my ability to hear people's thoughts could help him make money. The trouble was most of them were dodgy, if not downright illegal. Of course Jason never thought through the consequences of anything properly. The reason I stayed in Bon Temps was through fear of what would happen if the authorities ever discovered my unusual skill.

Mistrust of the government runs deep in these parts, and I was certain that if the FBI or CIA ever found out what I could do, they would be unlikely to ever let me return to a normal life. I didn't want to spend my days in the service of the state.

So I picked out the most urgent bills, putting the others back in a folder to wait until another day, and set off into town to keep at least a few of the wolves from the door.

Someone had left a copy of the _Shreveport Times_ in the bank; I flicked through the pages while I waited for the queue to go down. The advert caught my eye immediately. It was a full quarter page, and printed in blood red letters, so that wasn't surprising.

_Blood donors wanted for prestigious event, top rates paid_, it said. Glancing around to make sure no-one was looking I tore out the page as quietly as I could.

I knew perfectly well they weren't looking for the kind of donors who went into the hospital every couple of months to donate a pint for the Louisiana blood bank. The beneficiaries of my donation wouldn't be premature babies or old ladies recovering from heart surgery. They would need the blood just as much, but they liked theirs fresh and direct from the source.

I knew all about vampires, I thought. We may never have had one visit our little town, being as we were such a backwater, but I watched TV and read the magazines customers left behind in the bar. Okay, maybe having one feed on you was pretty gross, but I'd never considered myself the squeamish sort. Besides, one night of discomfort was worth a worry-free month any day.

Ever since the Stackhouse family had first arrived in Bon Temps we had made sacrifices to keep our land and our home. Our old farmhouse was no grand plantation house like '_Tara_', but I was as determined as Scarlett O'Hara had been to keep it in the family. I'd pretty much given up hope of marrying and having children, but my brother Jason would surely settle down eventually and produce some little Stackhouses to maintain the family name.

I made the call as soon as I got home, so as not to give myself time to get cold feet. A recorded message with a husky woman's voice picked up. I gave myself a mental slap – vampires were hardly likely to answer the phone in the middle of the day. Blood donor auditions would be taking place on Monday night at eight at a club called Fangtasia, the message said. I made a note of the address, all the while groaning at the awful pun in the name. _Time wasters will be eaten _the message warned. I got the feeling she wasn't joking.

Four nights later I set off just before sunset to drive the thirty-odd miles to Shreveport. Although it was our nearest city, I didn't go there that often so I'd checked the map carefully to make sure I could find my destination.

I sang along loudly to the country songs on KXKS to keep my spirits up, but it didn't stop me having second or even third thoughts on the way there. I wondered what Gran would have made of my decision. She was certainly no prude, in face I sometimes suspected she might have been a little wild in her youth, although that was hard to imagine. She was certainly no bigot, unlike some of her friends – yes Maxine Fortenberry, this means you! Even so, I wasn't entirely sure she would have approved of my plan. By the time I pulled into the parking lot of a small strip mall in a deserted industrial neighbourhood, I must have changed my mind and back again eight or ten times.

The sight of the queue of people waiting outside a nondescript, windowless building only amplified my doubts. They were mainly women, with a few men, but they were uniformly dressed in black. Or at least some of them were dressed. Most were wearing outfits so skimpy they barely counted as clothes at all.

I'd thought long and hard about what to wear. I had deliberately chosen not to dress like a 'fang-banger' as the vampire groupies were called, so I'd thought that an old but still good pair of Levis and a dark blue sleeveless blouse that tied just above my tummy-button would be fine. I'm not going to deny that I knew the outfit showed my figure to good advantage, I wanted to get offered the job after all, but I didn't want to look cheap or easy.

Now I was here I felt ridiculous – under and over-dressed at the same time. I was a hick from a backwater town and that's just what I looked like.

Swallowing hard, I got out of the car and walked as confidently as I could towards the back of the queue. I kept my mental shields up, knowing that I wouldn't want to hear what people would be thinking about me.

At eight o'clock exactly the door opened with a flourish and out stepped what had to be the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen. I like to think that I'm pretty much immune to a handsome face and a sexy figure, but I swear I actually went weak at the knees at the sight of him. He towered over most of the people in the crowd, and his long blond hair seemed to glow as it hung around his shoulders. He wore a sleeveless black t-shirt that hugged the well-defined muscles of his chest, and a pair of black jeans that most definitely did not come from Walmart.

Out of his shadow stepped a smaller, darker man. Despite the cool of the evening, he was naked from the waist up, presumably to show off his torso, which was covered with an intricate pattern of the most delicate tattoos. His black hair was cropped short, and the dark glasses and combat pants which he wore gave him a sinister appearance. He moved silently along the line, handing out number cards as he went. Mine was 93.

The tall blond followed a few paces behind. He was accompanied by a blonde female vampire, dressed in tight black leather, whose bright red spike heels brought her almost up to his height. She was carrying a notebook and pen. Watching carefully, I could see that as he passed each person in the queue he made some comment and his companion made a note.

It didn't appear that anyone else in the queue had noticed this, but that hardly came as a surprise. The wave of lustful thoughts was so overwhelming that it was impossible to shut them out.

Most of the women were wondering what they had to do to get him to look at them; of course many of them wanted him to do a lot more than look. The graphic images I picked up from a woman a few places in front of me suggested that she'd succeeded in that aim at least once. She was a very strong broadcaster.

The first few people in the queue tried to get his attention by batting their eyelashes or pouting their lips. When that didn't work, they resorted to more desperate measures.

One girl pulled down her top to reveal her breasts. That attracted a brief second glance, so naturally other women copied the action. Another girl lifted her short skirt to reveal that she wasn't wearing any panties, and yes, she was auburn all over. The female vampire seemed to find that most amusing, as she arched an elegant eyebrow.

I pulled myself back into the shadows, not wanting to catch his eye. I felt almost sick with apprehension and discomfort. Perhaps they wouldn't notice me and I could sneak off and forget the whole crazy idea. Instead, as they approached me the male vampire slowed down. He didn't look at me, but I swear he sniffed the air delicately. I wasn't wearing any perfume so lord knows what he could smell. He turned and spoke to his female companion, his voice so low that I couldn't hear it. I let my shields down, rude I know, but the situation was making me nervous. To my surprise I couldn't hear a thing, just two empty spaces where their brains should be. The woman gave me a knowing wink and they moved on.

It took fifteen minutes for them to check out the whole queue and make notes. When they'd finished, the Asian vampire read out a list of numbers. 93 was on the list.

The successful candidates could hardly contain their excitement, giggling and shrieking. The unsuccessful ones stalked off into the night, and I'm sorry to say that they were thinking very unkind thoughts.

I tried my hardest to ignore both groups, as we were shown into the bar, where the tables and chairs had been arranged into a few semi-circular rows. The tall blond and his Asian companion melted into the shadows, and the woman stood on a raised platform at the front to address us. As people settled into their seats I got a good look at her. She was without a doubt the most exotic creature I had ever seen. She was wearing a black leather mini-dress that fitted her like a second skin; even from where I was sitting I could tell that the leather was expensive. Her blond hair was styled into an elaborately casual up-do. She wore bright red thigh-high boots with clear plastic platform soles and spike heels which must have been at least eight inches high. Her lips and nails were a perfect match for the colour of the boots. Despite the constraints of her outfit, she moved with effortless grace as she stalked the dais.

"Good evening, ladies and gentleman," she began, as formally as if she were addressing a church meeting, "my name is Pamela Ravenscroft, co-owner of Fangtasia."

A few people murmured 'good evening' in response – I guess they were the ones who went to good schools. The vampire ignored them as she continued her introduction.

"Could I have a show of hands if any of you have been blood donors before?" she asked. I struggled to place her accent; it had a southern twang, but underneath I thought I could detect something older and distinctly foreign.

Quite a few hands went up, and she nodded in approval. "For this event we're looking for people who can offer a little extra; our guests will expect to be amused and entertained, as well as being fed. Does anyone have experience in the hospitality industry?"

I raised my hand nervously; waitressing must count as hospitality after all. I was sitting near the back and the room wasn't that well lit, but even so, her eyes seemed to find mine from amongst all the others in the crowd. The bored expression which she had maintained steadfastly was briefly replaced by a flicker of pleasure, which made me feel even more nervous.

"Good," she drawled, "very good. Now we're going to have some try-outs, just to check that you know what to expect. You are free to leave at any time if you feel uncomfortable. I'll be at the door, and everyone will receive something for their trouble in showing up tonight."

People began whispering to each other. "Have you done this before?" the girl sitting on my left asked. She patted my hand when I admitted that I hadn't. "Don't worry; you won't need to go all the way if you don't want to." Her words did nothing at all to make me feel better.

I had slowly become aware that there were numerous vampires in the room. They were sitting in the high-backed booths or standing in the shadows. Curious about their intentions I tried to listen into their thoughts, but there was nothing, only voids where their brains should be. It was weird, but quite comforting. Ever since I was a tiny girl I had been able to hear what people were thinking. It had terrified my parents, once they realised what was going on. Most people just thought I was crazy when I'd blurt out something I couldn't possibly know.

My attention must have wandered as I realised the female vampire had finished speaking. The vampires began to emerge from the shadows and circle the group of humans in the middle of the room. I didn't need to be able to read their thoughts to know that they were sizing us up. No words passed between them; instead they relied on glances and gestures which no human could interpret.

Some of the volunteers couldn't handle it. One girl screamed and ran out of the room. Most of the audience seemed to lap it up though. I could see that the girl with no panties was crossing and uncrossing her legs like a low-rent Sharon Stone. The female vampire smiled appreciatively, and beckoned her over to one of the bar-stools.

I decided to leave; this was definitely a mistake. I was attracting a lot of attention, and I didn't think it was just my out of place dress sense. I'd read that vampire had highly enhanced senses, and realised with horror that they could probably tell that there was one thing that made me very different from everyone else in the room: I'm pretty sure I was the only virgin.

Unless you've experienced it, it's impossible to convey in words how silently a vampire can move and how quickly. I didn't even realise that the tall blond vampire was at my side until I felt the touch of his cool fingers on my arm. It wasn't just the unexpected chill that made me shiver as he leant down and spoke very quietly, his lips almost brushing my ear.

"Miss Stackhouse, will you accompany me into my office?"

I was so overwhelmed with a combination of terror and anticipation that it didn't occur to me to wonder how he knew my name.


	2. Chapter 2

He shut the office door behind him and leant back against it, his arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankles. I felt a frisson of fear which, from the lascivious expression on his face, I strongly suspect he recognised. I tried to remain calm as I looked around the office. It reminded me a lot of Sam's back office but right at that moment the familiarity didn't provide a great deal of comfort.

His manner was politeness itself. "Please, Miss Stackhouse, take a seat; I'm not going to bite you." He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment of the weak joke.

The couch he indicated was leather, but had most certainly seen better days. I wondered briefly about the activities which might have taken place on it to cause the damage, but before I could worry too much about that, he was sitting on the arm, looking down at me.

"I confess I find myself mystified. You must have noticed that you are not like the other _volunteers_ for this job?" His tone was hostile, making me feel even more uncomfortable.

"I'm not a spy or anything, if that's what you're thinking," I blurted out, mentally slapping myself for not considering how I might appear to the vampires. "If I was from the Government, or the Fellowship, I would have made more effort to blend in."

The vampire laughed, "That is true, although they usually fail. Their shoes always give them away."

"The truth is, I need the money, and the advert said this job would pay well. My gran died you see, and I've got so many bills to pay…." I was babbling now, even though I'm sure that my financial predicament was of no interest at all to him.

"You're an attractive woman," he said, using the advantage of his elevated position to look down my cleavage, "there are plenty of opportunities for someone with your assets."

"There may well be, but they're not the kind of opportunities I want to take," I snapped back.

"That's a shame, I do have a vacancy for a dancer here at the club," he offered, looking hopeful.

"No," I responded, as firmly as I could, but immediately regretted sounding so rude, "it's really not the kind of thing I'm interested in. Besides, I have a regular job as a waitress; I just need to earn a little extra to pay some bills."

"Are you sure you're willing to go through with it, you know what the job entails?"

"Well…I guess so," I was hesitant; I had been just about to walk away after all. Now I was in the room with him though I didn't want to seem cowardly – we Stackhouses are made of sterner stuff. I'd seen vampires drinking from humans in reconstructions on reality TV; and besides, growing up in the country develops a high pain threshold. When you've been thrown off a horse a few times you learn to suck it up. I'm not sure that the vampire was convinced; he certainly looked doubtful.

"Well, as my colleague, Miss Ravenscroft explained, we do need to audition all the volunteers. The event we are organising is high profile and it would not do to have anyone cause a scene." He stared at me meaningfully, but I didn't flinch and retuned his gaze as evenly as I could.

"She said we could leave at any time, right?" I asked, trying to sound firm.

"Of course, you just have to ask me to stop and I will." He'd moved from his position on the arm of the chair and was kneeling in front of me now. He took my hands in his and stared deeply into my eyes.

I'd read that vampires had the power to hypnotise humans, and I guess that's what he was trying to do from the way he had fixed his gaze on mine. I know you'll be thinking that if this was a movie, the sinister music would be starting right about now, and that a sensible girl would be up and out of there, but I was curious. I'd tried hypnosis once, as a gag when my friend Tara and I went to the County Fair. It hadn't worked then, and strangely it didn't seem to work now.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked in a low, dark voice. His eyes widened and his gaze became more intense.

"Yes I'm fine," I replied, cheerfully, although I could feel an odd prickle of discomfort all over my scalp.

"You'll be more comfortable if you take your blouse off," he continued, his scrutiny unwavering.

I was tempted to slap him but decided that would be a bad idea; instead I confined my outrage to a verbal response, telling him that I wouldn't put up with him talking dirty like that.

It was obviously not what he expected, as he rocked back on his heels almost as if he had been slapped. "What do you feel?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well it's a little chilly in here but apart from that I feel fine," I risked a little smile, hoping it wouldn't piss him off.

"You don't…." his voice tailed off, and he looked at me thoughtfully. "Most humans do as I tell them," he continued after a long pause.

"Look Mr…"

"Northman, Eric Northman."

"Mr Northman, I need this job, as I've explained. I know that I'll have to let a vampire feed on me, and I'm used to being nice to people even if I don't like them very much, but if what you're really looking for are hookers, you should have advertised in a different newspaper." I was almost shouting by the time I'd finished my little rant.

He pulled himself up to his full height and crossed his arms as he looked down at me. I didn't flinch, I wasn't about to back down. Gradually a smile began to tug at his lips, until after a few moments he was laughing out loud.

"Well you are a feisty one," he said, "I like that. Don't worry, you won't be forced to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you have my word on that. I do need to audition you though, if you've no objection."

I nodded my acceptance, and he took up a place beside me on the couch. Slipping an arm around my waist he pulled me against him.

"I don't like to do this cold, but I have no choice," he said, softly stroking his fingers over the exposed patch of skin above the waistband of my jeans. It was a strangely soothing action, but all the same it set off a wave of most unexpected sensations.

He lowered his head and kissed my neck several times, then whispered in my ear, "just relax, everything is going to be fine." He may not have been able to hypnotise me, but his dark sexy voice had the effect of turning my insides to jelly.

For a brief moment I regretted not giving in to his earlier instruction to take off my blouse, then mentally slapped myself for even considering letting a complete stranger get intimate with me, however handsome he was. He manoeuvred me effortlessly until I was sitting on his lap and he had both arms around me. I think he was getting quite excited himself, from what I could tell, and that thought just made me heat up all over.

Then, without further warning his fangs clicked into place and he bit into my neck. It hurt like hell at first, but gradually the pain gave way to something strangely pleasurable. His hand moved away from my waist, it trailed down over my stomach, and then lower, until he was stroking me intimately through the fabric of my jeans. I didn't have the strength to push him away and to be honest, I didn't want to. Waves of warmth travelled up my body, turning to shivers as they reached my breasts.

Right at this moment I became fully aware of the power which vampires could have over humans. He may not have been able to use his hypnotic influence on me, but if he'd tried to take my clothes off now I would have done nothing to stop him. Who was I kidding; I would have helped. I think I probably moaned just a little.

I was gone, completely overtaken by lust, when without warning he pushed me away so roughly that I fell against the other end of the couch. For several moments he just stared at me as if he were the one who was hypnotised, his fangs still extended and my blood dripping down his chin.

"What's wrong," I stammered, totally confused by the signals I was getting from him. "Did I do something bad?"

He snapped out of his reverie, shaking his head. Taking my hand he pulled me back towards him, gently this time, and leant down to lick the wounds on my neck.

"Nothing…nothing," he replied, hurriedly, leaving me in no doubt that something was wrong but that he had no intention of telling me what it was.

"You'll do very well," he continued, "that is, if you haven't changed your mind."

"No, I'll be fine, that wasn't too bad," I sounded as if I'd just been to the dentist.

Before I'd even finished my sentence he was over by the door and ushering me out. I'd realised by now that Vamps can move real fast if they want to.

A full-scale orgy was going on when we re-entered the main bar. Most of the other humans hadn't exactly been overdressed to start with so I guessed it hadn't taken them long to get naked.

Eric steered me towards the middle of the room, where table was laid out with food and drink. It was quite a spread, fried chicken, ribs, cold cuts, macaroni pie and other southern delicacies. No-one was showing much interest though; they were too busy eating one another. I hated to see good food go to waste and I said as much to Eric. He reassured me that any leftovers would be taken to a shelter for the homeless. I wasn't sure if I believed him, or if he was just humouring me but I decided to take him at face value.

"You should eat something though," Eric said, sounding uncannily like a nurse at a regular blood donor centre, "you may feel a little weak after donating."

I helped myself to a plateful, passed on the bottles of Bud, but took a glass of sweet tea. Then I looked for a booth that wasn't occupied by people having noisy sex. I managed to find a quiet corner, glad that the piped music dulled the sounds of passion all around.

Much as I didn't want to look, there were a couple of things which caught my eye. A woman with a very familiar looking brunette pony-tail was on her knees in front of a tall dark haired vampire. He had the distinctive features of a Native American. I was more interested in the girl though, from behind she looked awfully like Dawn, one of my fellow waitresses at Merlotte's.

It wouldn't have surprised me. I knew that Dawn liked to be adventurous in the bedroom department. She would hang out with my brother when neither of them had a better offer, and I'm sorry to say that Jason is not the most discreet of boyfriends. I hoped that she wouldn't see me. I hadn't told anyone that I was planning to do this.

The other person who was right in my line of sight was Miss 'No-Panties' as I had dubbed her after her earlier exhibitions. She was draped across the bar, her legs wrapped around the shoulders of a blonde female vamp; while a darker female was sucking at her neck and fondling her breasts. The girl was trying to look enthusiastic, but something about her expression struck me as false. I know a fake smile when I see one; I'm pretty expert in them myself after all.

As I watched, Eric called the blonde vamp away and they disappeared out back. The girl sat up, and a shock of recognition hit me. I've got a very good memory for faces – a useful skill if you're a waitress – and hers was distinctive. A few weeks back, a group from one of the Baptist Churches in Renard Parish had come into Merlotte's for lunch. They were on their way to picket a 'Planned Parenthood' clinic in Shreveport. I was as certain as I could be that she had been in the group.

Abandoned by her lovers, she struggled down off the bar, and walked slowly towards the food table. Hiding my half-eaten plate, I went back for seconds.

"Hi!" I said, cheerfully, as she and I both reached for ribs at the same time.

She returned my greeting awkwardly. I knew I had to drop my shields; there was definitely something odd about her.

'_I can't believe I just did that'_ she was thinking, '_it was disgusting, they never said I'd have to do things like that, what will Tommy think_?' An image of a shiny suited young man with a short haircut popped into her mind. She was such a clear broadcaster that I could even see his little lapel badge: '_Jesus Saves'_.

Now I had a real dilemma. If I told the vampires what I knew, I'd have to reveal my gift and that was something I really didn't want to do. But if I didn't people might get hurt and I'd have to live with the guilt.

Eric materialised next to me as I was turning over the options in my mind.

"Are you alright?" he asked, you look worried."

"It's just that girl over there. I'm sure I must be wrong, but she reminds me of someone I used to go to Sunday school with. Her parents are real religious, so I'm just shocked to see her here."

Eric looked thoughtful. "That's very interesting; I will have Pamela check her out."

I almost sighed with relief; I'd done my duty without giving myself away. "I really should get going." I was keen to get out of there before I discovered any more awkward secrets, and hopefully before Dawn spotted me. Luckily she seemed far too engrossed in the amorous attentions of her long haired warrior.

Pamela Ravenscroft was back on door duty, checking people out as they left. I wondered if it was some kind of scoring as she made tiny scribble against the list of names on her clipboard.

"Would you like me to …..say goodbye to her," she said to Eric as we passed, sounding all mysterious.

"That won't be necessary; I will see her to her car."

I gave him a puzzled look, wondering what she had meant, but he ignored me.

"Would you like me to drive you home?" he asked as we crossed the car-park.

The offer was tempting. I was feeling quite shaken up by what I'd seen and experienced in the last few hours. Then I thought of him trying to cram his enormous frame into my tiny, beat up old Hyundai, and of the effect that being crammed in with him for at least half an hour would have on me. "I'm good, thank you, I'll be fine."

"If you're sure? Please drive carefully; I look forward to seeing you at our reception. I do hope you won't change your mind." He bent down and brushed a cool kiss on my cheek.

I can't deny that thoughts of the handsome vampire dominated my mind as I drove back home. Of course I was glad he hadn't tried to force himself on me, but I suppressed the tiniest pang of disappointment that he'd pulled away just in time. Perhaps I just wasn't his type, not one of the normal fang-bangers…..anyway, it didn't matter. I would take the job, take the money and that would be the end of it.

Living out in such an isolated spot as Hummingbird Road had never worried me before, but tonight I felt unaccountably nervous. I hurried across the yard to the front door and locked it quickly behind me. I had the strangest feeling that I was being followed, but as I peeked out from behind a curtain to survey the yard there was no sign of anyone, or anything. Dismissing my fears, I hurried up to bed.

I unfastened my blouse and bra, and peeled off my jeans and panties. To my surprise, the bite marks on my neck had totally healed. That was something of a relief as I'd been worrying about how to explain them away at work tomorrow night.

Standing naked in front of the full length mirror in my bedroom, I gave myself an appraising look. I may not flaunt myself like some of the girls at that club tonight, but no-one could say I wasn't attractive. My breasts are full and firm, my waist slim, I know I look good with a tan and I've been told enough times that I've got a cute ass.

I had to face the fact that if I was going to go through with this, I would probably have to do some flaunting. Vampires certainly liked their humans as underdressed as possible. I closed my eyes and struck a pose, imagining I was a dancer on the little stage in Fangtasia. Could I really do it, I wondered.

What the hell, how different was it from working in Merlotte's in those figure hugging shorts and t-shirts that the patrons liked. I knew only too well that half of them spent their evenings imagining what I would look like naked.

As I opened my eyes I thought I saw a flash of movement in the mirror but, walking over to the window, I could see nothing outside. The moon was full, illuminating the lawn but there was no sign of anyone out there. Pulling an old T-shirt out of the drawer I settled down into bed. Within minutes I was asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Eric's Point of View**_

_One week earlier_

I heard the door to Fangtasia's cellar clang shut, and the distinctive clack of Pam's heels on the concrete stairs. Sometimes my child had the most inappropriate timing; although I suspect it was often deliberate. I opened my eyes and glanced down at the human who was on her knees in front of me. She really was very skilled at what she was doing, almost as if her life depended on it.

In a way it did. She'd been caught dealing in 'V' and brought to me for punishment. As it was her first offence, I had decided to be merciful. A night in the Fangtasia cellar should be enough to scare her off; for some reason female humans had a particular aversion to rats and my rats were very large indeed. Her screams of terror would keep Pam amused, and I was being well rewarded now for my leniency.

"It's the Queen," Pam said, holding out my cell-phone as she reached the bottom of the stairs. A pointless gesture of course, as there's no reception underground, but she does love to be dramatic.

I glared at her and glanced down pointedly at the woman. Pam pulled a face that said 'oops'. Humans knew very little of our real structure and organisation in this country and we wanted to keep it that way.

"Sophie-Anne is on the phone for you, she says it's urgent," she repeated.

Pushing the girl away with an exaggerated sigh, I readjusted my clothing and turned towards the stairs. "Don't you go running away now," I smirked at the girl, quite unnecessarily as her hands were manacled to a pole in the centre of the room.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Sherriff," Sophie-Anne drawled into the phone when I reached my office, "I hope it wasn't anything important." Insincerity flowed from every syllable.

I had briefly considered challenging her when I first arrived in her territory. I was older and stronger after all; according to the laws of our kind it would have been considered a fair challenge. She knew this, and considered the failure to do so a weakness on my part. For myself, I regarded it as an act of self-preservation, having observed that those who climb the highest are the easiest to cut down.

"Nothing is more important than your wishes, my queen." It was pathetic really, her love of sycophancy, but I had learned that it was best to humour her.

"I have been asked to organise a little summit, somewhere discreet, so I thought of Fangtasia."

"I am honoured," I lied.

"The King of New York wishes to meet with me, to discuss our mutual interests, but he does not want any of our neighbours to know." I knew she was referring to the various neighbouring kings who circled her Queendom like vultures, waiting for any sign of weakness: Russell Edgington in Mississippi, Peter Threadgill in Arkansas and, most threatening of all, Felipe de Castro in Nevada. All of them had made proposals of marriage which she had turned down. She was well aware that it was not her body they were seeking to control.

"It can be a low-key affair. Just make sure you decorate tastefully, and we will need some blood donors. Please make sure they are attractive and not completely dumb, I know how hard that is in your area of Louisiana," she said with an unkind sneer in her voice. I rolled my eyes when she told me the date; we had a fortnight to organise. I snapped the phone shut and opened my e-mail to send out orders.

"What did she want?" Pam asked disdainfully. She had never warmed to Sophie-Anne. I wasn't sure why, although I suspected that they were too alike – each could see their own weaknesses and faults reflected back in the other.

Her expression hardened as I explained the mission we had been tasked with. "Where on earth are we going to find enough suitable donors, you know perfectly well she will bring a retinue of at least ten, and the King of New York will have to outdo her. There really aren't enough beautiful people in Shreveport."

I told her I thought she was being unfair. "Besides," I added, "if we advertise widely, and pay enough we'll get the people."

"As long as I get to host the auditions night, and get first pick," she pouted.

"Second pick; I get first choice." I needed to remind her just who was boss.

I quickly drafted an advert for the _Shreveport Times, _and sent it off for my day-man to organise proof-reading and layout. I didn't anticipate any difficulty in attracting interest, and the recruitment evening would be a highlight for the local vampire community. All the donors would need to have a practical audition, and that would make it an excellent way of rewarding vampires who had pleased me, or whose support I might require in future.

"Besides, this place, how on earth will we ever make it suitable?" My child wrinkled her delicate nose. She thought Fangtasia was tacky and never missed an opportunity to let me know it.

"I'm sure I can rely on _your_ good taste, Pamela," I countered sarcastically. "Now if you will excuse me, I have some punishment to administer. If you stop sulking, I may let you have a turn later."

* * *

><p>As I had anticipated my advert pulled in the crowds. There must have been a hundred and fifty people queuing outside Fangtasia on the appointed evening, a week later. I sent Chow out first to hand out ID numbers and then Pam and I made our way along the queue. As we walked I made comments for her to note down, my voice too low for the humans to hear: 'too thin', 'too fat', 'too old,' 'false tits'. I hated the modern fashion for silicone implants, I like my women shapely but as nature, not a surgeon, intended. Besides if you bite into one by mistake the taste is disgusting.<p>

An imperceptible nudge from Pam got my attention. I could see immediately what she had noticed. The girl seemed to be trying to hide herself in the shadows, as if she wished she were anywhere but here. Her ensemble of jeans and sleeveless shirt certainly stood out in the sea of black leather, velvet and lace which surrounded her. She had hardly any make-up, just pale lipstick and some mascara, but she really didn't need it. Her face was lovely, with full lips and bright blue eyes that shone out, even in the dark.

As we approached I became aware of a faint but distinctive scent. It reminded me of something I hadn't smelt for hundreds of years. I dismissed the idea - it wasn't possible; it must be some kind of coincidence. Nevertheless she would most certainly make the cut – I gave Pam the nod and number 93 was added to the list.

Returning to the bar I took up a discreet position to observe the chosen group as Pam gave her practised spiel about the event. Some of the volunteers looked nervous, some a little over-enthusiastic, but strangely there was only one who really held my attention. I suspected it was no surprise that she was trying to keep a low profile by sitting right at the back. It was very obvious that she had never been in contact with a vampire before; everything about her demeanour screamed it.

Pam had left her notebook on the bar. She had taken names and matched them up to our initial comments. It took me only a few seconds to find number 93. Sookie Stackhouse from Bon Temps; I was sure I would remember that name.

I decided to audition her myself. It needed a subtle approach, I didn't want her to be scared off, certainly not before I'd found out more about her. I saw her twitch in her seat, she was uncomfortable, she was going to get up and leave. Within seconds I was at her side. She seemed shocked when I addressed her by name, but got up to accompany me nevertheless.

I watched her carefully as she walked ahead of me towards the back office, trying not to be distracted by the sway of her perfect ass. In my experience anything which looks too good to be true usually is, and I wondered what her motivation was for coming tonight. It was quite possible that she was some kind of spy or infiltrator – that was the risk of placing a public advertisement.

She looked apprehensive as she settled herself on the couch. There was something about the way she moved and held herself which was subtly different from the women I usually had in here. My questioning was deliberately aggressive; I wanted to throw her off balance. She became flustered, but I judged that her responses were truthful. Believe me, I've had plenty of practice, I can always tell.

I couldn't resist teasing her a little. She was a lovely woman, and the simple outfit she'd chosen did nothing to disguise her ample curves. If she was prepared to offer herself as a blood donor, there must be other opportunities open to her which were just as lucrative.

Why, I wondered out loud, did she not take advantage of her obvious assets to take up other job opportunities. I'd have been very happy to hire her as a dancer; her wholesome good looks were just the thing to appeal to both human and vampire patrons.

As she chattered on about being quite happy with her job as a waitress and jut needing some extra money to pay her bills, the reason for her reluctance hit me, she was a virgin, I was sure of it. This just got better and better. Beautiful and virginal; what greater prize to offer the King of New York. I would be well rewarded for this. It could even turn out to be what that ghastly modern expression referred to as a 'win-win' situation. He would get to drink virgin blood, and afterwards I hoped to get to sample something I had not enjoyed for a very, very long time.

I just had to hope she had no plans to change her status in the next few days. It would be worth the investment of my time to watch over her and keep her safe.

I knelt down in front of her and prepared to glamour her. I needed to be sure that she could be bitten without causing a scene. I could tell immediately though that there was something wrong. Normally when you glamour a human, their face loses its animation and assumes a blank expression. Hers didn't change at all.

She started babbling about being cold. Dear Gods, I thought, please don't let her be deranged; everything else about her seemed so perfect.

There's one way to find out whether a human is totally under the influence, and that is to ask them to do something you know they will make them uncomfortable. I didn't have to think very hard about what to ask.

"You'll feel more comfortable if you take off your blouse," I suggested, supressing a tiny frisson of pleasure at the thought of seeing more of that lovely body. I've had so many women over so many years that it's rare for any but the most striking to have an effect on me.

Her anger surprised and amused me – she was definitely not glamoured.

I'd met humans who could resist my power for a few seconds, minutes even, but eventually they all succumbed. Perhaps there _was _something more than human about her. I would have to taste her blood to be sure.

She agreed to that without any hint of squeamishness, which pleased me greatly. I have no tolerance for modern girls squealing and screaming at the slightest thing, it is so unwomanly. I manoeuvred her into a position which was comfortable to us both, and as I did so my fingers brushed against the bare skin of her stomach. I sensed her reaction immediately. For all her protestations of virtue she couldn't prevent her body reacting with pleasure to my touch.

I let my fingers trace soft patterns on her naked skin, smiling at the shivers which I could feel. She didn't push me away so I grew bolder, trailing my hand down between her legs and stroking her intimately. Her arousal was stronger now; I could tell it would soon reach the point where she would lose control. She may be immune to my glamour, but she was not immune to my powers of seduction. I bent down to kiss her, then let my fangs run down and without further warning, bit into her slender neck.

The taste of her blood overwhelmed me, my caresses became more urgent and her response was equally powerful. I could hear the voices in my head calling on me to drain her dry; they grew louder and more urgent. I wouldn't be able to resist much longer.

Gathering up the last of my strength, I pushed her away. She fell back against the end of the couch, a look of complete shock on her face. "What's wrong," she whimpered, sounding quite piteous in her distress. I could hardly explain that her blood bore the trace of a supernatural race who I hadn't encountered for over eight hundred years, or that the same blood had the power to drive a vampire wild.

Fairy blood is after all intoxicating to vampires. She wasn't full Fae, but I couldn't tell immediately how strong her blood was and I most certainly didn't want to risk an unfortunate incident.

Now I faced a dilemma – what impact would her blood have on the King of New York? He had only been made vampire in the eighteenth century, long after the last of the Fae had walked openly on the earth. That was partly the fault of humans, who had destroyed the forests and poisoned the rivers which provided their natural habitat, and partly the fault of vampire who had drained so many of their kind. If the King had never encountered a fairy before, he wouldn't recognise her, but he still might be affected by the blood.

Queen Sophie-Anne was a different matter. She was an older vampire, turned in renaissance France, I had heard, so it was possible she might recognise the scent of the Fae. I would have to ensure that she had a suitable donor of her own, and I would keep Sookie well out of her way.

In fact, I would have watch over her very carefully all evening, even if that was at the expense of my own enjoyment. Letting another vampire sample her rare blood was a risk, to her certainly, and also to me. Sookie Stackhouse was a prize indeed, and if letting the king taste her resulted in a successful summit so be it. If Sophie-Anne was happy and her queendom was stable she would leave me in peace, and that's the way I liked it. After the summit I would have the opportunity to find out more about this unusual creature.

The poor girl looked horrified as we re-entered the main bar to find a full-scale orgy going on. Under normal circumstances I would have chosen one or two of the most beautiful women and joined in enthusiastically, but I knew that none of them would compare with the lovely creature at my side.

Having chosen her as the main attraction for the summit, I was of course concerned for Sookie's welfare. She should eat, I thought, it wouldn't do for her to faint on her way home. No-one else was paying any attention to the buffet which Pam had ordered in. I was pleased to see that she helped herself to a generous plateful. I cannot bear the fashion for scrawny women – a voluptuous figure is so much more attractive.

I let her get settled before going to compare notes on our auditionees with Pam, who seemed to be very engrossed in attending to a young, auburn haired girl who was draped over the bar.

My child was not pleased to be diverted from her evening's entertainment. "What do you want, can't you see I'm busy," she complained.

If there had not been humans present, she would have been severely reprimanded for her insolence, but it was an absolute rule amongst vampires not to show our true feelings in non-vampire company.

I thought I detected a flicker of relief on the girl's face as Pam released her from the embrace, but refrained from commenting.

Pam was surprisingly good-humoured. "Well I have to say I'm surprised, but we've a pretty good choice of donors. I'm not sure about the one you've chosen though. She really has no dress sense, and she looks rather too virginal to me."

I raised my eyebrows and flashed her a quick grin.

"Eric, she isn't, is she?" Pam was genuinely astounded, but that quickly turned to suspicion. "You mean to say you've found a virgin, in this town, and a pretty one at that. What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing, or at least not as far as I can tell. We'll need to get her checked out of course; we'll run security checks on everyone who is chosen."

"You'll have to give her to the King," Pam smirked.

My expression hardened. "The King will feed on her, but I promised that she would not have to do anything that she wasn't comfortable with. She will not have to _accommodate_ him if she doesn't wish to."

"And how exactly do you plan to stop him?"

"My bar; my rules. Besides I can handle the King."

Pam shook her head despairingly. "I hate to be the one to say it Eric, but one day you will go too far and your arrogance will get the better of you."

I glanced over at Pam's human. Maybe the glamour was wearing off, but she seemed to be taking rather too much of an interest in our conversation. I guided Pam to the other end of the bar to quiz her.

"Are you sure about your human, she doesn't look very comfortable to me?"

"She's fine, it's just that she's completely inexperienced with vampires. Do you know I'm certain she's never had a woman go down on her before?" Pam sounded quite shocked at the thought.

There was no point in arguing with her, but I made a note to get the girl properly checked out. Anti-vampire organisations were increasing in number and becoming more sophisticated in their methods. If we did have an infiltrator, perhaps she was the one.

I was keen to get back to Sookie. I knew she would still be here; Chow had been given orders not to let anyone leave without having Pam glamour them as it was essential that no word of the summit should leak into the human realm. However I wanted her to be, if not an enthusiastic participant, at least a willing one, and with no power to control her I had to fall back on the old-fashioned technique of persuasion.

Something had upset her, I could tell as soon as I approached the booth where she was sitting. To my surprise though she didn't comment on any of the outrageous displays going on around her, but started talking about Pam's auburn-haired friend. Apparently she thought the girl was suspicious as well. Interesting, I thought. It was rare for humans to be so perceptive.

I had to confess that I found myself completely intrigued by this woman. She was either a complete innocent who knew nothing about her heritage and her appeal to vampires, or she was the most incredible actress I had ever met. As I have met most of the world's greatest actresses, and slept with more than a few of them, I had to assume it was the former.

She refused my offer to drive her home. I stood watching the lights of her car until they disappeared into the far distance. I needed to find out more about her, where she lived, and more importantly, who with. Deciding that it wouldn't be a good idea for anyone to know about my new interest, I left my Corvette in the parking lot and took to the skies in the direction of the highway.

I kept my distance, watching the yellow tin can which served as Sookie's car make its unsteady way into the backwoods north of Shreveport until it finally drew up outside an old farmhouse. I watched as she hurried up the steps of her porch and listened to the click of the latch and bolt behind her, then waited for her to shout out to whoever it was she lived with. The only sound was her footsteps padding around on wooden floors.

Observing the scene more closely it was very clear why she needed money. The shingles on the roof were loose, the paintwork peeling, and as for the driveway, well I made a note to myself never to bring the Corvette out here. I would offer her twice what the other donors were getting. She was most certainly worth it, and I had a feeling that it would be an offer she could not refuse.

I couldn't resist just one more look at her before I returned to Shreveport to sort out the paperwork. I'd send Bobby, my day man, out with the offer letter at dawn so it was waiting when she awoke.

I settled myself into the branches of a large tree, observing her progress through the house as lights switched on and off. She didn't bother to close her curtains, and I was able to watch her undress. She spent a few minutes appraising herself in front of the mirror. I watched as she reviewed her shapely ass, slim waist and perfect breasts.

It was hard to resist the temptation not to fly in through the window and take her there and then. Still, it was a matter of pride to me that I had never forced myself on a woman and never would. I was confident from the way she had reacted to me earlier that I would be able to seduce her when the time was right. Unfortunately for me, this was neither the time nor the place. Still there was nothing to say I couldn't look.


	4. Chapter 4

_**It's the morning after the donor auditions at Fangtasia, and Sookie is wondering if she can really go through with it.**_

There was a letter on my doormat the next morning. It had no stamp and no postal marks so I knew it had been hand delivered.

It was addressed to _Miss S Stackhouse_, my name written in an intricate old-fashioned script. The envelope was thick and heavy; I turned it over in my hand, guessing who it was from but wanting to put off the moment of confirmation.

_My dear Miss Stackhouse_, the letter read, _Thank you for attending the audition_. _I would like to confirm your employment as a hostess on the night of -. Your fee will be $1,000_. I swallowed hard; it would take me more than two weeks to make that much at Merlotte's. _Please call me to confirm your acceptance_. There was a cell number, and the letter was signed '_Eric Northman_' in the same sprawling script.

Call me suspicious, but I don't expect that all of the potential donors had woken up to find that they had a personal letter from the owner of Fangtasia. I wondered if the others who'd been chosen were getting paid as much either. What was so special about me? He couldn't possibly know about my 'gift', I was sure I'd done nothing to give that away.

Could Eric have guessed that I was a virgin? I'd tried my hardest not to act the innocent, but I guess someone as experienced as him must be would have seen the signs. I'm not stupid; I know how rare it is for a woman of my age not to have had a boyfriend. Of course there are women who are determined to save themselves for marriage, but that type of woman wouldn't consider associating with vampires for all the gold in Fort Knox.

I had nothing against men, or sex for that matter. The trouble was I'd never been able to envisage how I could enjoy it when I would be able to hear every single thing my partner was thinking about me.

Of course, I knew that plenty of guys fantasised about having a virgin. I wondered whether vampires had the same fantasy – I'm sure I'd seen that once in a horror movie. It was a warm morning, but it didn't stop me shivering in apprehension. How did the saying go: '_someone's walking over your grave_.'

Sitting in my kitchen with the sun streaming in, drinking my first coffee of the morning, I tried to make sense of the previous night, and my reactions to what I'd seen and done. I'm not easily shocked. One of the many disadvantages of my 'disability' is that I get to hear the secrets that are never intended to be shared with anyone; the guilty secrets about the things people have done and really, really wished they hadn't. Some of the things people had done last night made Bon Temps most shocking secrets look tame in comparison.

It wasn't those memories that made me go pink on the outside and wobbly on the inside though. I'd been prepared for the experience of being bitten to be uncomfortable, even painful. I'd been confident that I could cope with that. What I hadn't expected was that it might be, in an odd way, enjoyable. I guess that's why the fang-bangers kept on coming back for more. Perhaps I was on that slippery slope, like a drug addict smoking that first marijuana joint that would lead inevitably to getting hooked on heroin. I've never been tempted by drugs though, and I didn't think I would enjoy being bitten by that scary looking Asian vampire, or the Native American that Dawn had been so interested in, and certainly not by Ms Pamela Ravenscroft.

Eric Northman was a different proposition altogether. He was without doubt the best looking man I had ever met. For years I'd managed to supress my sexual feelings, channelling them into caring for Gran and working. A few minutes on the couch with him had unexpectedly re-awakened them and with a force that had taken me completely by surprise. I felt uncomfortably teenage whenever I thought about him.

That was a complication I hadn't expected, and one I wasn't quite sure how to handle. I'd all but made up my mind to give up on the whole idea and manage without the extra money when the post van arrived with a slew of new bills. '_Pull yourself together, girl_,' I chided myself. I just had to show some self-control, that's all. Besides, now that vampires were out in the open, they had to abide by human laws. I'd be fine, and once it was over I would have nothing more to do with any of them.

Anyway it was nearly a week until the event; I needed to get on with my life. I had chores to do, and errands to run in town, and then the late shift to work. Perhaps that would take my mind off Mr tall, blond and gorgeous.

As if to taunt me, everywhere I went that day people seemed to be thinking about sex. My first stop was the Bon Temps library. Admittedly, Mrs Beck, the librarian, wasn't thinking about sex, not at first anyway. She was thinking about what to cook for her husband's supper. She thought about food a lot. When she saw me walk in she started thinking about the pretty little girl who'd just started work at Grabbit-Kwik, and how she'd caught Alcee looking at her the last time they'd stopped for gas, and how she'd cut off his balls if she ever caught him with another woman.

The only other patrons of the library were two teenage girls. They were flicking through a Tami Hoag mystery novel, giggling as quietly as they could manage but still earning themselves disapproving looks from Mrs Beck. They were looking up the sex scenes and wondering how it would feel to do those things with the boys they knew.

The gas station attendant was thinking about sex as well when I called in to top up my tank; specifically how cool it would be if I would come in with a coat on and nothing underneath like the woman in the porno video he'd been watching under the counter.

It was a relief to get to work. Once I get into the routine it's like being on autopilot and that makes it an awful lot easier to keep my shields up. Unfortunately for me, there was a big college basketball game on TV which meant that the bar was busy for a Tuesday.

Dawn was working the same shift. I made a point of saying hello, and asking how she was. She seemed surprised, as we're not that close. If she had seen me last night, I gave her every opportunity to make some reference to it, but she said nothing. I couldn't help but notice the scarf she'd tied round her neck. I'm not the most fashion conscious of people, I leave that to my friend Tara, but I was pretty sure that look was at least fifteen years out of date. I wondered why my marks had faded so quickly when hers obviously hadn't.

Now I was back in my familiar surroundings, Fangtasia felt like another world. Here in Merlotte's the drunks were just as drunk, the lechers just as lecherous and the gossips were still dishing the dirt. Dawn was the unlucky victim. The scarf only served to draw attention to her neck, and people were making good guesses as to what she was hiding.

For people who call themselves Christians, the ladies of Bon Temps have the most uncharitable dispositions. I'm almost sure I heard Jane Bodenhouse refer to Dawn as a '_fang-banging whore who'd probably end up dead_,' although as she was pretty drunk already her thoughts were as slurred as her speech.

"Are you okay, Sookie honey? You seem distracted," my friend Arlene asked after I'd had to return to the condiments table three times for things I'd forgotten.

I could hardly confess to her that I'd been wondering what the reaction would be if I brought Eric Northman on a date in here. Not that he'd ask me out on a date. I wasn't even sure how a vampire and human could date; going out to dinner would be a very one-sided affair. There was always the cinema, or the theatre I supposed, or dancing. I smiled at the thought, I had the feeling Eric would be a good dancer, he moved with such effortless grace considering his size.

That little fantasy had me forgetting Maxine Fortenberry's sweet tea, which got her to thinking about how I always had been a little bit crazy, and how glad she was her son Hoyt wasn't interested in me anymore. That was news to me – I had no idea he ever had been interested in me. He was a sweet guy and a good friend to my brother, but not my type at all.

"Hey Sooks, order up," Lafayette shouted impatiently. Our short-order cook was flamboyantly gay, as if he'd decided to confront all of Bon Temps prejudices head-on. I'm not saying everyone in our little town is racist, or homophobic. They just don't like change that's all. I think they would be more comfortable if we were back in the fifties, when everyone knew where they stood, before women burned their bras and gays came out of the closet.

"Sista, you sure look distracted tonight, you gonna tell LaLa who the lucky guy is?" he hissed at me as I collected a burger and fries for Bud Dearborn.

I felt myself going pink all over. Hopefully he would blame it on the heat from the kitchen. I was very grateful that he couldn't see inside my head, as I was overwhelmed with the sudden image of Eric Northman holding me in his arms and sinking his fangs into my neck. I took a deep breath as I walked over to the booth where Bud was sitting, then hightailed it to the ladies room to splash some cold water over my face.

I considered asking Sam his advice on working at Fangtasia. He might well know of Eric Northman, they were in the same business after all. Trouble was I wasn't sure he'd approve, he always behaved rather strangely when the topic of vampires was mentioned. It seemed to make him nervous for some reason that I couldn't work out.

Sam's thoughts were never as clear to me as other peoples. If he was experiencing really strong emotions that would break through my shields, but I could never make out the details. The one think I couldn't help but know was that he had supressed feelings for me, and that always made me uncomfortable. He was the best boss I'd ever had, and a good friend as well. I decided to say nothing. I wasn't on the rota for Sunday or Monday, so he need never know how I would be spending that night.

As I drove up Hummingbird Lane in the early hours I was exhausted from the physical effort of delivering my orders and the mental effort of keeping my shields up, so I wasn't best pleased to see someone sitting on my porch swing, illuminated by the security light.

Then I realised who it was, and was unable to supress a little thrill of pleasure. I'd sat on that swing with a few guys over the years, mainly friends of my brother Jason, or with J B du Rone, the only guy in town dumb enough that I could bear to listen to his thoughts. None of them could compare to Eric Northman in the looks department; they weren't even close.

Then again, none of them was strong enough to rip my head from my shoulders with their bare hands. Neither would they consider me as a perfect ready meal. I know some women are turned on by danger, but I'm not one of them.

"Mr Northman," I acknowledged him as calmly as I could, as if it is was perfectly normal for me to have a nocturnal visit from a supernatural being. I took up a seat at the other end of the swing. I was dead on my feet, but knew better than to invite him into the house.

"You look exhausted," he observed as he inched towards me, draping a long arm over the back of the seat. His fingers trailed across my shoulder, brushing my skin as softly as the breeze.

I bit back a sarcastic response, figuring it didn't make sense to offend him.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call you," I said apologetically. "I've been working since before sundown and it was so hectic I didn't get a minute's break."

"No matter, it gave me an excuse to come out and see you," he replied, in a voice so dark it made me shiver.

I began to relax and some of the exhaustion melted away. I dropped my mental shields and revelled in the silence. I'd never experienced such peace before. Even with Gran, I'd had to make an effort, although it got easier over the years. With Eric Northman, I didn't have to try; I could just breathe in the warm scented night air and listen to the cicadas chirping. It was blissful.

"You seem very isolated out here, does this not make you nervous," Eric asked, breaking the silence which had fallen between us.

Well of course until that moment it never had. "I've lived here since I was seven; I guess I'm used to it. We don't get many people out this way, especially since old Jesse Compton died." I pointed in the direction of the old man's house, which was the other side of the cemetery. "I've seen lights on in his house sometimes, but I guess it's just high school kids who've found a good place to party. No-one seems to want to claim the place, so I just leave them to it."

"You seem very different to other women," he observed. "You don't have a boyfriend?"

"I'm kind of between guys at the moment," I lied.

He called me out on that. "Please don't lie to me Sookie, I will always know." There was an undercurrent of menace in his tone.

I considered how much of the truth to tell him. "I haven't really had time. Gran was ill for so long, and there was only me to look after her. Also…" I hesitated. If I was going to be convincing it would mean sharing something with him that I'd never talked to anyone about.

I half turned my head to look up at him. "The truth is, when I was little I had a funny uncle."

"I do not understand this phrase; do you mean that he was a comedian?"

"What I mean is he used to interfere with me, touch me and do other things that he shouldn't. It took me a long time to get over that. For years I couldn't even bear to look at myself in the mirror, or even think about letting anyone touch me. He said it was my fault; that I'd led him on." Tears had started to leak from my eyes at the memory, as they always did whenever I thought of what Uncle Bartlett had put me through.

Eric raised his hand and gently wiped the tears away. Then he licked his fingers, which rather ruined the effect.

"Does he still live, this uncle?" he asked.

I nodded. I hadn't seen him for over ten years. Eventually Gran had realised what was going on and had banned him from the house. He hadn't even been invited to her funeral.

"Then I shall kill him for you."

"No, Eric, please. I don't want that. Besides, I'm okay now, and there are plenty of people who've suffered worse than I did."

I'm sorry to say that he looked disappointed.

I'd gotten myself really relaxed, and now the mood had been ruined. I cast around for a new topic of conversation. "Are you able to tell me more about this reception you're organising," I asked, deciding it was as good a way as any of changing the subject.

He was thoughtful for a moment, before he spoke. "In Europe, in medieval times, kings would make a progress around their kingdom. It was supposed to be a great honor to host them, but in reality they would eat you out of house and home; and seduce your wife and daughters for good measure." He laughed to himself at some private memory.

I looked confused, not quite understanding the point he was trying to make.

"The event we are organising is similar," he continued. "What I'm going to tell you is not common knowledge, I hope I can trust you not to spread it around?"

I nodded eagerly. I certainly didn't want him thinking that I was a snitch.

"In the old world, Vampires were ruled by Kings and Queens, just as humans were. When we arrived in the new world, we brought this system with us. Each state has its own ruler and they are very powerful. All vampires in the State must obey them. Our reception is for the King of New York. He is meeting with our own Queen of Louisiana, and they wanted a venue which would not attract attention."

I think I was gawping by that point: King of New York….Queen of Louisiana…it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. We are a democracy after all.

"So are you a king of anything?" I was glad the darkness hid my blush as the question sounded foolish the minute it had passed my lips.

"No," he replied thoughtfully, "I have never sought that position. I have my place in the hierarchy, but you don't need to concern yourself with that. I was a prince in my human life though." He flashed a hesitant smile, as if having my good opinion actually mattered to him.

"Really?" I tried not to sound too impressed.

"Well, my Father was a powerful tribal chief in the country which is now known as Sweden."

I racked my brains; what did I know about Sweden? Oh yes _Mamma Mia_ – I loved that movie – and Abba, and some obscure film directors. The some vague memory from back in high school kicked in: "Were you a Viking?" I asked, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.

"Yes, in my human form I was, but that was many centuries ago."

I was dying to know exactly how long he'd been a vampire, and whether he ever regretted it, and a hundred other things about him, but I didn't want to seem too intrusive, so I changed the subject back to the reception.

"So what's he like, this King of New York?" I asked, as if it was the most normal question in the world.

"Handsome. Very, very rich. On the surface he's the perfect gentleman, or so I've heard."

"You don't know him then?"

"I did actually meet him in Europe; in his human form he was the King of Sicily before he was turned. Our paths crossed, oh, about four hundred years ago."

Now I really was staring, it hadn't registered that Eric was that old. He didn't look a day over thirty-two.

I think he must have read my thoughts, as he laughed and stroked my cheek gently.

"Don't look so worried. You'll get used to our ways. I was thinking perhaps you would like to spend an evening at Fangtasia before the reception, it will help you feel more comfortable."

I must have looked worried as he added hurriedly, "you could bring a friend if you wish."

"That's very thoughtful of you." Suspicious as well I thought, although I didn't say that. Everyone knows that vampires are selfish – or at least that's what you read in every magazine profile. Still, if I was going to go through with the donor thing, I didn't want to make a fool of myself. It would be a good idea to check the place out and try to get an idea of the correct way to behave around vampires. I could watch the other humans and see what they did.

I briefly considered inviting Tara to come with me. Deep down she was really very conventional, and I knew that she wanted nothing more than to get herself a husband and have lots of kids. For some reason though she put on an act of being adventurous. She once told me that she and her boyfriend 'Eggs' Benedict had been to a swingers party. She pretended that she'd enjoyed it but I knew from her thoughts that she'd actually found it very uncomfortable. Maybe that was what being brought up by an alcoholic mother did to you.

"I'm free on Thursday, if that would be convenient." I realised I'd been drifting away with my thoughts and hadn't answered him. He didn't seem to mind though. He seemed to have endless reserves of patience but perhaps that comes with being immortal, or maybe I just didn't know him well enough.

"Perfect." He flashed me his most brilliant smile, and I felt my insides go wobbly.

We talked a little longer. He was interested in my family and where they were from. He seemed quite surprised to know that my great-great-grandfather first settled here over a century and a half ago and that Gran had traced our family tree back over two hundred years on both sides– I guess that kind of stability is rare nowadays.

I wanted to find out more about his human life, but I wasn't sure of the etiquette. Maybe vampires didn't like being reminded they were once human. Instead I continued to talk about myself and my family, and he didn't seem to have a problem with that.

During the conversation, I'd somehow shifted along the bench, or maybe he'd inched closer to me, but I found myself leaning back against his broad chest, with his muscular arms draped loosely around my waist. He was completely still. It was very odd not to feel his heart beating or the rise and fall of his chest, but I soon got used to the coolness of his touch and found it oddly comforting after the day I'd had. I wondered if, maybe even half hoped that he'd make a move on me, but he showed no sign of doing so.

Eventually he shifted me gently out of his embrace and stood up to leave. In an unexpectedly romantic gesture, took my hand and kissed it. I was surprised to feel a tug of disappointment that he was going, but was even more surprised when I realised that we had been sitting and talking for well over an hour. It was a long time since I'd felt so comfortable in anyone's company; comfortable enough even to reveal my darkest secret.

He disappeared faster than I could see, and it was only after he'd gone that I realised I'd never heard his car.


	5. Chapter 5

_**It's Thursday night, and Sookie has a date, which isn't a 'date'.**_

I confess to feeling more excited that I probably should have done as I got ready for my night out at Fangtasia. The truth is I don't get out much. Frankly, my 'disability' ruins most social activities for me. It's hard to relax and enjoy myself while keeping my shields up to block out unwanted thoughts. Even going to the movies is a trial with the cacophony of thoughts surrounding me. I hoped that if I could focus on the vampires, and on one vampire in particular, I could block out the humans more easily.

Of course, my wardrobe didn't contain many suitable outfits. Black really isn't my colour. Eventually I settled on a smart satin pencil skirt that I'd bought when I was asked to tend bar at a wedding reception, with a dark strappy vest. It looked rather too much like a waitress outfit for my liking, but it was the best I could do.

I really needed a nice piece of jewellery to set the ensemble off, but everything I owned was silver and that didn't seem like a great idea. Then I remembered an old necklace of Gran's. She never wore it, but kept it in a special box and sometimes when she was feeling sad she would get it out and look at it. I was pretty sure it was gold, and it was really beautiful, with an intricate design of interwoven flowers and leaves. It was perfect; my skin even seemed to glow a little brighter when I put it on.

I was a lot happier as I made the journey this time. I had a better idea of what to expect, and much as I might try to deny it, I was looking forward to seeing the handsome owner of Fangtasia again.

Pamela Ravenscroft was on the door when I arrived. She looked me up and down disdainfully.

"I don't believe we were advertising for a waitress," she said nastily.

'_Bitch_' I thought, as I plastered a big false smile across my face.

"Eric, I mean, Mr Northman, invited me over in advance of the summit. He thought I should get to know the set-up a bit better." As if she didn't know that.

"Oh he did, did he?"

I didn't bother replying, just stood my ground and waited for her to let me in. I'm not going to recommend entering into a staring contest with a vampire as they'll always win, but eventually she backed down and waved me through.

The bar was more crowded this evening, mainly with humans. I cast around for the characteristic void which indicated a vampire brain, but could only find two or three. The scary looking tattooed Asian vamp was there. The Native American guy was tending bar, and there was a small, wiry, Indian woman who I hadn't seen before. They had the resigned expression of people who really wanted to be somewhere else. I wasn't surprised as the clientele was distinctly more downmarket than it had been for Monday's audition night.

Strolling towards the bar as casually as I could, I had time to take in the décor. I'm no expert in these things, but Fangtasia struck me as looking just like a vampire bar would look like if it was on some low-budget cable TV show. Black, red and grey were the predominant colours, and there were framed posters from vampire movies decorating the walls.

It was impossible to miss Eric. He was sitting on the dais from which Pamela Ravenscroft had addressed us on Monday, in an elaborately carved chair. He was wearing the same dark jeans and black vest as he'd worn both times I'd seen him, and looked even more bored than the other vampires. I wondered idly how many sets of the same outfit he had, and whether he ever needed to change, on account of vampires not having bodily functions like we humans did.

He was so busy trying to ignore the various women vying for his attention that I don't think he noticed me at first. I tried not to stare at him, not too obviously anyway, but after couple of minutes his head jerked up, and then he was at my side in seconds. I had to take a deep breath to steady myself. After all, it wasn't a date or anything like that, just preparation for a job.

"Miss Stackhouse, what a pleasure to see you," he purred, and he certainly looked pleased. "Now you must let me introduce you properly," he continued, beckoning to Pam. "You know Pamela Ravenscroft, she is co-owner of Fangtasia and my _very_ close friend." They exchanged knowing looks as he finished his sentence.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," I said politely, holding out my hand. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps they were lovers, they were so very close. I tried to supress a pang of disappointment at the thought.

She looked down her nose at me, in a manner which I'm sure my word-a-day calendar would have described as 'supercilious'. She didn't respond to my gesture and after a couple of seconds I pulled my hand back, turning pink with embarrassment.

"Vampires don't shake hands," Eric explained, leaning down so that only I could hear. "Don't you mind Pam; she's really quite civilised once you get to know her." He glared at her as if he could force her to be nicer to me purely through the strength of his will. She just pulled a sour face.

"Come, sit with me and we'll have a drink." He led me over to one of the booths, and a waitress appeared immediately to take our order.

"I'll have a gin and tonic please," I said, politely. I did have to drive home, but I figured one wouldn't hurt. I hoped it might relax me a little; now I was here my whole body was taut with nerves. I tried desperately to think of something to say that wouldn't sound completely dumb. I know it wasn't a date, but it felt like a date, sitting alone in a booth with a man. The only dates I'd ever been on were with JB du Rone and he was so dumb you could recite the phone book and he'd be interested.

I sat back against the high backed leatherette seat and tried to compose myself. It was hard not to stare at Eric, and wherever I fixed my gaze just emphasised how stunning he was. The luxuriant blond hair which hung down around his shoulders wouldn't have looked out of place in a Pantene commercial. His arms and chest were sculpted and muscular, and his face could easily have graced the cover of one of my romance novels.

Every article you ever read, every profile, uses the cliché 'ageless'. Now I realised just how accurate it was. Eric looked somewhere between his late twenties and early thirties. His skin was perfect and his teeth white and even. His blue eyes blazed clear and bright. He had the faintest hint of an accent, different to Pam's but clearly reflecting the Swedish heritage he'd told me about.

It's not a very original thing to say about a vampire, but there really was something otherworldly about him. When I was a little girl they made a movie in the woods around Bon Temps, I think Burt Reynolds was the star, I can't quite remember, I just know that Gran was mightily impressed. What I'll never forget though was seeing him in town one day. He was just so big and bright and shiny, he looked more than human. That was how Eric appeared to me.

Focussing on how attractive he was made me feel even more inadequate. I cast around desperately for something to say to him. "Your club seems busy tonight," I offered, weakly.

He seemed pleased that I was showing an interest. "Thursday nights usually are," he commented, "people are gearing up for the weekend. Also we have a coach party in." He gestured dismissively at the group of middle aged men and women who were huddled together round a few tables, accompanied by several bored looking teenagers. They were all wearing black but looking distinctly uncomfortable, even nervous. Every now and then one of the vampires would approach them and snarl, showing their fangs and provoking squeals of horror. To be honest it was all rather pathetic, but I kept that opinion to myself.

Eric gave an artificial sigh, "I suppose you think this is all rather low-rent, I know that Pamela does."

I was determined not to agree with Pam on principle, and besides I didn't want to upset him. "I guess you're giving people what they want," I replied, hoping that my answer was suitably non-committal.

"Really," he sounded interested, "and what is it you think they want?"

Well of course I knew exactly, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Anyway I figured it wasn't too hard to guess so I would be able to reply without giving myself away. "A lot of them want sex…." I began.

"Of course,"

"And some of them want to be frightened, and some just want to be able to say they've met a genuine vampire."

"What about you the, Sookie, what is it that you want? Are you going to deny that you are fascinated by us? Why else did you answer the advert?" he challenged, with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

I mumbled something about not being really sure, but he was right. Deep down I had to admit that I'd wanted to meet a vampire ever since the Great Revelation. Tara had suggested taking a long weekend in New Orleans a couple of years back, but Gran was too poorly at the time for me to risk leaving her. Then she died and I couldn't afford to take the time off. I wasn't even sure why I'd wanted to meet one. I guess I just hated the idea of life passing me by while I hid myself away in Bon Temps.

He was watching me carefully, so I looked casually around the bar to avoid his gaze. That was when I noticed that one of the teenage girls who was sitting with the coach party seemed very interested in the tall Native American vampire. The old fashioned expression would be that she was making eyes at him, but there was nothing old fashioned about the looks he was giving her in return.

I had more control over my ability now than when I was younger, so I was able to isolate her thoughts from the crowd surrounding her. She was wondering when she could get away from her aunt and sneak out to the ladies room. She was hoping the vampire would follow her, and maybe even bite her.

This could get Eric into a lot of trouble.

"Will you excuse me? I need to go to the ladies room." My timing was just right as she stood up at exactly the same moment.

I spent a few minutes in front of the mirror touching up my lipstick and primping my hair. I tried not to smile at her growing frustration as she did the same, all the while trying not to look at me. She was desperate for me to get out of there.

"Listen sweetie," I turned to her with what I hoped was a kindly smile, "that vamp behind the bar seems mighty interested in you. I heard that the last girl he was interested in wound up dead in the Red River, they said she had not a drop of blood left in her."

He was hovering outside the door when we left, but she rushed past with a look of terror on her face.

"Who's your bartender?" I asked Eric as I slipped back into the booth, "is he a vampire?"

"His name is Longshadow, and he is a partner in this bar with Pamela and myself. Can you not tell that he is a vampire?"

Of course I could tell, on account of the void where his brain should be and the faint glow which he shared with Eric and Pam. "I thought maybe he was," I lied, "but some people do real good impersonations nowadays."

"Yes, they do," Eric replied darkly. "Why are you interested, do you find him attractive?"

"Not particularly, it's just that he was hanging around outside the ladies room and I don't think it was me he was interested in. I may be over-reacting but there was an under-age girl in there, and it just seemed a bit suspicious."

Eric's face was expressionless but I could tell from his body language that he wasn't happy. "Pam should check the ID more carefully." He was looking at Longshadow though, and I was briefly concerned that I'd got the bartender into trouble. Then I thought about what might have happened to the girl if I hadn't intervened and felt a whole lot better.

"Can you tell me anything about what to expect on Sunday?" I was keen to change the topic of conversation, and this was meant to be the point of my visit after all.

"Our guests will arrive shortly after first dark," he explained. "They will spend a few hours on their formal business, and then will require the services of the donors. After that there will be entertainment, I have booked a musical group." He looked very proud of himself.

"Do we get to choose who we want to donate to?"

Eric didn't need to answer that, the look on his face said it all.

All my worries about the event came flooding back. What if I got picked by someone really scary, or ugly – not that I'd ever seen an ugly vampire – maybe ugly people never got turned. Or what if I was assigned to a woman. I'm perfectly comfortable with other people's sexuality, but that's their choice, not mine.

"I won't get passed around a whole lot of people will I?" That was probably my worst fear, ending up as some human pass the parcel.

"Sookie," Eric said, taking both my hands in his across the table, and looking into my eyes. "Please don't worry. I know it's your _first time," _he put a heavy emphasis on those two words, leaving me in no doubt that he had guessed my sexual status, "you will be assigned to one vampire only, and he will only be permitted to feed from you, nothing else. You have my word on that."

I must have sighed with relief as he gave me a little smile.

"All you need to do is ensure that you arrive no later than ten pm. Please don't eat any spicy food or garlic for twenty-four hours beforehand, and don't drink any alcohol. Oh, and.." he winced uncomfortably, "you will need to dress up." Clearly he wasn't impressed by my outfit any more than Pam had been.

"That is a lovely necklace though," he commented.

I'd been fingering it nervously. It was much heavier than I'd expected and I'm sure the jewels in it were real. I explained that it had belonged to my Gran. For a guy he was surprisingly interested in jewellery and I wondered for a moment if he was appraising the value.

I was still worrying about what on earth to wear when his cell-phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID then made a quick gesture. In seconds, Pam was at the booth looking at him expectantly.

"Will you excuse me? Pam why don't you show Sookie the cellar, she might have some ideas about the décor."

Pam didn't look too pleased to have me intrude on her territory. Whatever her relationship was with Eric, it obviously required her obedience as she said nothing but motioned me to follow her. I decided vampire partnerships must be old-fashioned like that.

As we descended the concrete stairs I was assaulted by a wave of sounds and emotions. It was as if I could hear all the memories in the room. It had happened to me once before, on a plantation tour with Gran. We'd visited the old slave quarters, and I'd ended up running out in distress at the things that only I could see and hear.

Down in the Fangtasia cellar I picked up a very strong image of a naked women chained to the wall. I could see some rusty chains and what looked like manacles. A weaker impression was of a man's voice screaming out in pain.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself.

"Are you okay, you look pale?" Pam asked, although she didn't sound very concerned.

"I'm fine; it's just the smell down here."

"Yes, we're below the water table, but Eric had the room constructed specially. It is going to need some improvement if we're to use it for the summit though, what do you think?"

I did a double take, wondering if she was actually serious about asking for my advice, but she was looking at me expectantly. I thought carefully before answering.

"Well, my suggestion would be to do something southern-themed – maybe a classic plantation house?"

She was nodding, so I continued.

"I used to visit them with my Gran and her 'Descendants of the Glorious Dead' group."

"Her what?" Pam interrupted.

"It's a local society; you have to be a direct descendant of someone who fought for the South in the civil war."

"How quaint," she observed, sarcastically, "anyway, you were explaining how we might decorate the room."

"You'll need a wooden floor. The best houses have French oak of course, but I guess it will ruin down here with the damp an' all."

"I don't suppose laminate would do?" Pam mused, and laughed when I shuddered with disgust, "no, oak it must be, we'll just have to have it installed at the last minute, with some kind of damp-proofing."

Warming to the theme, I continued enthusiastically. "The wallpaper will need to be plush, perhaps a red velvet pattern, and you should have a chandelier instead of that," the fluorescent strip lighting did nothing for Pam's complexion and I suspected it didn't look too flattering on mine either. "Plus you'll need some antique furniture. It depends on how much Eric wants to pay for all this."

"Oh, Sophie-Anne will pay, money is no object. The problem is going to be sourcing some of these items." She looked at me thoughtfully. "Come let us share our ideas with Eric."

Typical, I thought as I followed her elegant progress up the stairs, she's going to take all the credit. To my surprise though, she didn't. Eric was waiting for us in the back office.

"Sookie has the most marvellous ideas about decorating the cellar," Pam drawled. I was pleased to see that he looked impressed. She outlined the plan while he nodded slowly to indicate his approval.

"Can we do it in time?" he asked, "we only have two nights."

"I think I can get most of what you need at local antique dealers. I'm not working tomorrow daytime so I guess I could go then. It won't be cheap though, I'll probably have to pay premium prices to get same day delivery…" I was so taken up with the excitement of being to help that I hadn't thought about money. "Would you be able to …." I trailed off, embarrassed to have to ask.

"Obviously you'll use the Fangtasia credit card," Eric said. I noticed how he seemed to be able to pick up my feelings, but I guess they were pretty obvious so I didn't make a big deal of it. He made a couple of calls and got my name added to the authorised users list. "Here's something for your gas and any out of pocket expenses," he added, pulling out his wallet and extracting a small wad of notes.

"I should probably get going," I said as he handed me the card and the cash, "I'll need to make an early start tomorrow."

Eric got up to walk me to the door. I wondered if he might kiss me, but then I thought that Pam probably didn't like to share. He draped an arm casually over my shoulder as he steered me back through the bar. I couldn't resist dropping my shields briefly to check out the reaction. That was a mistake. The thoughts were positively venomous.

Most people in the club were looking at me with curiosity mixed with derision. I could read it in the minds of the humans, and see it in the eyes of the vampires. Perhaps if I painted my face with the exaggerated black eyeliner and red lipstick they favoured, I'd be accepted. But then I figured maybe they were just jealous. After all I was the one who'd spent her evening in the booth with Eric Northman, not them.

"I hope you have enjoyed your evening," he said, as we reached my car.

"Yes….." I'm not sure enjoyed was quite the right word, but I could hardly complain to him that Pam hated me, and the other patrons thought I was some kind of small town hick.

"What's wrong?" he looked concerned. "I hope Pamela didn't upset you, she can be difficult with humans, but if it's any consolation she didn't single you out – she's like that with everyone."

"No Pam was fine," I lied, well partly lied, she had improved over the course of the evening.

"I'm sorry if you feel that I didn't pay enough attention to you. I had to deal with some preparations for the summit. I'm afraid that my queen can be very demanding."

"You don't have to apologise, I enjoyed myself, really," That wasn't entirely true but I didn't want him to think I was clingy. I pride myself on being an independent woman.

We'd reached my car by then. He held the door open for me, and I wondered if he might kiss me, but of course it wasn't a date, and he didn't. All I had as I drove off was the image of that brilliant smile.

I tried a different radio station. Country music just didn't feel right, and the indie rock was much more in tune with my mood. I was thinking about Eric Northman, again, even though I knew it was foolish. He was obviously powerful, and equally obviously very rich, from the casual way he'd given me his credit card without even setting a limit on my spending. No doubt he would find it very amusing to take my virginity, but he wasn't going to be interested in a serious relationship. Even if he was, I doubted somehow that Pam would let him.

The odd thing was that I enjoyed his company as much as I admired his looks. I liked it that he seemed to take me seriously. Believe me, when you've got blonde hair, a pretty face and a generous figure, people seem to think your brain cells have leached out into your breasts and your pony-tail. I still didn't feel completely comfortable with Pam, and I wished that I understood what the relationship between them was, but I could communicate with them as adults and that felt good to me.


	6. Chapter 6

First thing next morning I called my friend Tara. I'd felt very confident the night before when I'd volunteered to go shopping for Eric and Pam, but now I wasn't so sure. Tara had good taste and provided she could get away from her dress shop for the day I knew she'd love to come with me. Shopping was her second favourite hobby.

"You remember old Miss Ravenscroft, from Gran's 'Glorious Dead' group," I felt bad lying to her, but I needed a cover story. "Well you know she must be a hundred if she's a day, and she can't get out much now in the daytime. She's redecorating her house and she's asked me to find some traditional furniture for her."

"Why is she bothering to redecorate if she's that old?" Tara wasn't going to admit that she had no idea who Miss Ravenscroft was, besides all the elderly ladies of Bon Temps merged into one as far as she was concerned.

"I really have no idea; maybe she thinks she's going to live for ever." That was naughty, but I couldn't resist.

An hour later Tara picked me up in her fancy car and we set off. She'd already done some research. Unlike me she was a keen user of the internet and had a list of antique shops to visit. The first one looked very fancy and I was glad I had Eric's credit card as it was the sort of place where they would turn their noses up at cash. You had to ring a bell to be admitted and the owner looked us up and down disdainfully as we walked in. She was thinking that my shorts were too short and Tara's blouse too low cut for us to be real ladies.

Her stock was just what I was looking for though. I listened in to Tara, knowing she was a good judge. She thought it was overpriced and besides the owner was an awful snob. We really didn't have time to be fussy, so I hurried round, making a list of the items I needed: a good quality table, plenty of chairs, some ornamental china and a few paintings. She even had the perfect chandelier. With any luck we could everything in one place and Tara and I would get some time together to catch up. I'd been working extra shifts since Gran's death and it was months since we'd had a night out together.

I should have known better than to think things would run smoothly. Miss Charity Halloran was the name on the saleswoman's badge, but her thoughts were anything but charitable. She stared at the Fangtasia credit card as if it might bite her.

"Is there a problem?" I asked.

"I'm sure its fine, sugar," she drawled in an exaggerated accent. What she was really thinking was that there was no way on God's earth she was letting her precious stock go to grace some fang-bangers' bar. "I just need to go out back and check the authorisation."

"My authorisation has probably been delayed," I reassured Tara. "We can always come back later. Let's try the next place on the list, maybe it will have been sorted by then."

I took the card and put it back in my purse. I didn't bother with any false politeness as we left. Her prejudices had just talked her out of a sale worth over two thousand dollars. That was her problem, not mine.

The second place we tried couldn't have been more different. I think it must have been an old tobacco warehouse but it was semi derelict now. The ground floor was piled high, mainly with junk, but I could tell from the look on Tara's face that she had spotted a few bargains. She just had an eye for the unusual – I loved going to garage sales with her.

"There's more upstairs." The owner was a beat up looking old white guy, with several days' growth of white stubble contrasting with the red skin of a serious whiskey drinker.

The higher we ascended; the more dilapidated the place became. I was surprised it hadn't been condemned by the authorities. The stairs creaked and groaned, and there were gaping holes in the roof where birds flew in and out.

Right on the top floor I found exactly what I needed – a large oval table with an intricate marquetry surface. It wasn't in the best of conditions, but I was confident it could be restored in time.

Tara had found most of the other items on the list, and it wasn't a bad selection.

The owner had the confused thought pattern of someone who's already had a few drinks that morning so I made sure to be real clear. "I need everything on this list cleaned up, restored and delivered to this address by ten pm this evening. You can name your price, but don't let me down."

He thought that Christmas and his birthday had come at once. I didn't really need to listen in to him, he was so transparent. He really believed he could take my money and then deliver in a week or so time.

I leant in close and lowered my voice to what I hoped was a threatening tone. "I'm not sure if you know who you're dealing with, but I'm warning you, deliver the goods tonight or you may find yourself without a shop in the morning."

Perhaps the spirit of Eric Northman was rubbing off on me, as the effect on the man was electric. He looked again at the name on the card and the shock of recognition cut through his whiskey-addled brain.

"Yes, ma'am," he stammered, "sure thing, anything you say miss."

I could sense Tara standing behind me trying to supress a fit of giggles at the poor man's confusion.

"Way to go girl," she high-fived me as we left the shop. "That was some cool negotiation; I should have you come work for me."

We were still laughing as we set off back along Highway ? in the direction of Bon Temps.

"Stop!" I yelled after a few miles had passed.

Tara swung the car into the verge and stared at me. "What the fuck, Sookie, could you maybe give me some warning next time."

"Sorry, I just noticed that Chez Gerard has a 'two can eat for the price of one' lunch offer."

She rolled her eyes. "That was important enough to nearly kill us for."

"Don't be like that, I've always wanted to eat there, they say it's the best restaurant in the stat,e outside of New Orleans." It made you wonder what it was doing tucked away in a backwoods area like this, but the wad of notes Eric had given me was burning a hole in my purse, and I'd never have a better opportunity to find out.

They'd obviously been hit hard by the recession. Only one table was taken, by a group of dark suited businessmen, and the waitress didn't even think bad thoughts about our casual dress. As she showed us to a table overlooking the garden all she was thinking of was whether we'd tip her enough to get her exhaust repaired.

Tara and I chatted about the latest Bon Temps gossip, but that didn't take too long, and soon she moved onto a subject which I had been hoping to avoid.

"You know, Sookie it really is time you got yourself a boyfriend. How about we fix up a double date, me and Eggs with you and JB? You like JB don't you?"

I couldn't think of anything worse, even though I knew she meant it kindly. "He's very sweet, but…" I trailed off, not wanting to be unkind but totally unable to think of a positive thing to say about him. He was good looking of course but that just made me sound shallow.

"Okay, maybe not JB, but there must be someone?"

Of course at that moment the image of Eric Northman appeared in my mind and something of the impact of that thought must have shown on my face.

Tara gave me an evil grin. "Aha. Spill it Sookie, you can't hide secrets from me, we are practically sisters after all."

That was true, Tara and I had been close since we first met in kindergarten and she was like the sister I'd never had. There are some things you don't want to share even with your closest friend and right now, I decided that Eric was one of those things. "It's nothing," I said firmly. "Okay, there's a guy I've seen a couple of times, not dates or anything, but I barely know him and even if I did I'm not sure he's right for me."

"Good looking?" she enquired casually.

"Yes, I guess he is," I tried to match her tone, as if there was some doubt in my mind – as if! She was determined not to let it lie there.

"So what's wrong with him?"

"Well for a start looks aren't everything. Anyway, I'm not even sure he's available, I think he might already be in a relationship."

"He must have shown an interest in you or you wouldn't even be telling me about him." Tara could be very perceptive when she chose to be.

"I guess, but that's the problem, I don't know what he really wants from me." I needed to close this subject down, and quickly, before I revealed too much. "He's just different to what I'm used to, but if anything comes of it you'll be the first to know, I promise."

She seemed satisfied with that, and our starters arrived at just about the same time. The portions were tiny, certainly by Merlotte's standards, but mine tasted delicious and Tara looked satisfied with hers.

Tara launched into her own concerns as soon as the waitress had taken our plates away.

"I'm just not sure about Eggs you know,"

I said nothing but tried to look sympathetic, encouraging her to continue.

"I used to think he was the love of my life, but these parties he likes to go to…." Tara has always been a strong broadcaster. Over the years I've learned to block her out, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with the image of her in red bra and panties being pawed by the owner of the Bon Temps Funeral Parlour.

"You should just tell him you don't want to go anymore." It's so easy to see the sensible course of action when it's someone else's choice.

"I know I should, but then he'll think I'm some kind of goody two-shoes and he'll ditch me."

I'm not sure whether it was on account of her parents, but Tara was one of those women who didn't seem to be able to function without a man, however unsuitable. "There are other guys, even in Bon Temps," I suggested. Admittedly the choice came down to Hoyt Fortenberry, my brother Jason or JB du Rone – not the greatest selection, but if she was really unhappy with Eggs surely one of them would be better.

"Surely if he really loves you he wouldn't force you into doing things you're not happy with?"

"Love," Tara gave an ironic laugh, "what does that mean. I'm sure my Mom and Dad would have said they loved me, but it didn't stop them drinking themselves to death."

She had a point. I had the romantic notion that if you truly loved someone you would always put them first, but I could see that real life was more complicated than that.

My musings were interrupted by the arrival of our main course. I'd chosen Chicken Forestiere, which turned out to be chicken in an exquisite wild mushroom sauce. I almost felt sorry for Eric, never being able to taste fine cuisine like this.

The dessert was the highlight of the meal, a chocolate mousse so delicious I was certain I could die happy after eating it.

I won't deny it felt good, peeling off a wad of bills to pay the tab, even if the waitress did seem surprised to be paid in cash. I tipped her a fifty, feeling sisterly towards her.

Tara and I confined ourselves to safer subjects on the drive home. My brother Jason had a varied and active love life which kept us safely entertained.

Pam called me later that night. "Everything has been delivered and will be fitted tomorrow. You have done well," she said, sounding remarkably enthusiastic. "Eric is very pleased." Anything that pleased Eric was obviously good with her. "He asked me to enquire about your outfit for Sunday," she continued.

I'd been worrying about that a lot. My normal routine is so settled that my clothes just wear themselves, but after two visits to Fangtasia I knew I had nothing that was compliant with the dress code.

"My friend Tara has a dress shop" I offered, "she usually has some formal gowns, for weddings and the like." I'd been putting off asking her, maybe hoping that a dress would materialise by magic somehow, but tomorrow I was going to throw myself on her mercy.

"A dress shop…in Bon Temps?" Pam sounded distinctly unconvinced. I could imagine her shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"Tara has very good taste," I insisted, feeling that I had to defend my best friend.

"I'm sure she does," Pam was at her most patronising, "but I don't think we can take the risk. This summit may be low profile but the fact remains we are hosting royalty, and it will reflect badly on Eric if any of the donors don't look the part. It really must be designer or nothing. I'll send you some pictures by e-mail and you can choose."

I was forced to confess that I didn't even have a computer, let alone an e-mail address.

"Fine," Pam continued huffily, "I'll have to get a selection and bring them over. What are your vital statistics?"

I reeled off my measurements. They hadn't changed for a few years – waiting tables at Merlotte's may not have paid well but it certainly kept me fit.

"Are you working tonight," she enquired casually.

Naturally I was. Friday night is the busiest night of the week and Sam needs his regular waitresses.

"Make sure you take care of yourself and eat properly." She sounded like my Gran, although I'm sure her motivation was very different. "I would recommend a good steak and plenty of green vegetables. It will keep your strength up. Make sure you shower before first dark on Sunday so you are ready for me."

Gee, thanks for your concern Pam, I thought as I hurried to get ready for work. Looking back I knew I should have been suspicious at the amount of trouble they were going to, but Pam has this way of browbeating you until she gets her way.

Friday and Saturday passed without incident. I did take Pam's advice though and got Lafayette to cook me a beef grillsteak for my supper, blood red in the middle.

On Sunday I lay in bed till almost noon trying my hardest not to think about a certain blond vampire. Mid afternoon I showered, shaved my legs and underarms and slathered myself in a fancy body lotion that Tara had bought me last birthday. Then I waited. I tried to watch a movie, and to read some of my latest novel, but it was impossible to concentrate. It was almost a relief when darkness fell and thirty minutes later I heard a knock on the door.

Pam stood in the doorway looking at me expectantly. She looked completely different from the times I had met her in Fangtasia. Instead of the regulation vampire black, she was dressed in a pink and white check skirt suit with a string of pearls around her neck, a cream pussycat-bow blouse and cream court shoes.

"You have to invite me in," she hissed

"Please Pam won't you come in?" It might not have been completely voluntary but at least I could be polite.

She didn't bother with any pleasantries, just an order. "The dresses are in the car."

I'd noticed in my brief acquaintance with them that vamps aren't great ones for fetching and carrying. They like to have humans do that for them. There wasn't time to cause a scene so I trotted down the steps obediently, and returned staggering under the weight of six full length dress bags.

She shook them all out and hung them up from the picture rail in the hall. "What do you think?" she asked. Every dress was red.

"I'm really not sure red is my colour." Now that Pam was in my house and we only had a couple of hours to get ready and drive to Shreveport I was more nervous than ever.

"Nonsense, there's a red for every skin tone; we just have to find the right one." She reached the first one down and took it out of its bag. I slipped my old towelling robe down off my shoulders, but before I could untie it completely she stopped and looked at me with an odd expression.

"Something is worrying you" she stated, quite unexpectedly. I wondered how she knew.

"It's this…hypnosis…thing you vampires do. It doesn't work on me, and I don't know why"

"Glamour."

"I'm sorry"

"That's what we call it. Would you like me to try?"

I nodded and she stepped in close, her eyes boring into mine, just as Eric's had done. I felt the same prickly sensation all over my scalp, but nothing else. She must have carried on with the staring for at least a minute. I tried to relax in the hope that it might make a difference, but I felt nothing.

"What do you feel?" she asked.

I explained that it was like little prickles all over my scalp, as if someone was administering tiny electric shocks. "Have you ever known of a human who couldn't be glamoured?"

"Personally, no." Pam could be very abrupt with her answers when she chose.

"Did Eric say anything about it?" I'd been wondering what he'd told her about me.

"He may have alluded to it," she replied archly.

I sighed; it was harder to get a straight answer out of her than to get the truth out of a Louisiana Congressman.

"The thing is," I said, choosing my words carefully, "I'm just wondering if it's a good idea that anyone else knows that I can't be glamoured – with it being so rare."

Pam looked at me appraisingly. "You are really rather perceptive, for a breather."

"So you think I'm liable to get myself into trouble here?" I had to cut to the chase.

"I've never known anyone who can completely resist a vampire's glamour, but some people are more strong-willed than others. The very weak you can get to do anything, even commit murder," she said that with a relish which made me shiver, "but a stronger person can't be forced to do anything they are really uncomfortable with."

"So if the vampire I'm donating to wants me to go all the way, I will be able to stop without them being suspicious?"

"Go all the way," Pam repeated, "how very quaint." She took a few moments to have a good laugh about that before continuing. "If you ask Eric to tell your client that you have not agreed to have sex with them they will not be able to force you. Fangtasia is his territory and while you are there you are under his protection. The other vampires will have to respect that."

I felt a little better after she'd said that. It was the thought of being forced to perform some kind of sexual act which had been worrying me most, especially after the things I'd seen at the audition night. It wasn't that I wanted to stay a virgin for ever, but I wanted my first time to be memorable, with someone I cared about, not as a paid for escort.

I made her practice on me a couple more times, until she was satisfied that I could do a passable impression of someone who had been glamoured. I was more convinced than ever of the importance of hiding my real secret from the vampires.

Pam didn't wear a watch, but she glanced up at the kitchen clock with an impatient expression. We hurried through the process of choosing a dress, finally settling on a stately floor-length gown encrusted with rhinestones. If I was going to be unkind I would say I looked like a young Dolly Parton, but with a hint more sophistication. It accentuated all my best features though, nipping in my waist, and emphasising my cleavage without even the need for a bra. A slit right up to the thigh gave a glimpse of tanned legs, which I was very glad I'd shaved.

Pam then turned her attention to my make-up. She'd bought a toolbox which must have contained every known shade of red in lipstick and nail varnish. Standing me in the more subdued light of the living room she held them up against my skin one after the other, until she found one she was satisfied with.

She had me sit on the kitchen chair while she painted my toes and nails a vibrant scarlet. Every now and then she would look up at me, smiling appreciatively at her handwork.

"Have you known Eric a long time?" I asked, trying my hardest to sound casual, but I knew I'd never get a better chance to ask her, so I had to take it.

She wrinkled up her forehead to show that she was thinking. "I guess it's well over two hundred years now, I do lose track of time you know."

"Wow, that's amazing." I thought my Gran and Grandpa's forty-five year marriage had shown commitment, but this was something else.

"We haven't been together all that time of course. I stayed with him for a long while after he turned me, but then he released me to go my own way. I have to come back when he needs me though."

I didn't quite understand everything she was saying, but it sounded like a very controlling relationship, certainly not a healthy one.

"Is that normal for vampire relationships?" I was probably getting far too personal, but I had no doubt that Pam would tell me to shut up if she didn't want to answer. She seemed quite happy to carry on talking though as she applied foundation to my face and neck.

"It is quite normal for a maker and his child."

"I don't understand," I was forced to admit, "I thought you and Eric were…" I couldn't bring myself to say the words but it was obvious from her expression that she knew what I meant.

"Eric isn't my lover. He is the one who made me vampire. We used to have sex of course, but we have never been lovers…" she burst into laughter again. "Is that what you thought? How sweet. Were you jealous, my little Sookie? Do tell Auntie Pam." Now she was being sarcastic again.

"Of course not, I think he's good looking. I'm sure everyone does, it's no big deal," I tried my hardest to sound casual.

"If it makes you feel better, I do think he rather likes you. He has spoken of you several times and it is very rare for a human to hold his interest for long than it takes to feed on her. He doesn't have a human companion at the moment. It's been years since he had one. He is very particular though; in order to satisfy him a woman must be more than just beautiful, she must be intelligent, witty, entertaining…" she tailed off, looking at me with a rather unkind smile.

"Pam, I'm working for him, that's all. I don't have affairs with my bosses – work and pleasure just don't mix." I don't deny I felt tiny thrill of excitement finding out that Pam wasn't Eric's lover, but I decided to take the idea that he might be interested in me with a large pinch of salt.

"Fine, have it your way," she busied herself with applying lipstick, which forced me back into silence while she worked.

I checked myself in the mirror when she'd finished. I could barely recognise myself. She'd used a light foundation which made my skin glow, and a dusky silver on my eyes which accentuated their natural colour while also looking real sexy. The red of the lipstick wasn't overwhelming either, as she had predicted it was perfect. I had to compliment her, so I said I wished she could do my make-up every day.

"I learned everything I know from Mr Factor," she said, proudly.

Unfortunately the name meant nothing to me.

"Max Factor, he was the first celebrity Hollywood make-up artist."

There was me thinking it was just the name of a brand. "I'm sorry Pam; the history of make-up wasn't part of the curriculum at Bon Temps High School." It was the first time I'd ever tried her brand of sarcasm back at her and she looked rather puzzled for a moment. Then she smiled, and finally burst into delicate peals of laughter.

"Very amusing, Sookie, well done."

My hair was the finishing touch. She worked quickly and expertly with a brush and curling tongs until it was piled up in an elaborate up-do, with blond curls trailing down my neck just to draw attention to it.

Finally she was satisfied. She extracted a fancy looking cell phone from her purse and held it up to take my picture. Then, her fingers moving almost too fast for me to see, she composed a message.

"I'm just sending the photo to Eric, to check that he is satisfied," she explained, as I looked mystified. She stood in silence for a few moments until her phone 'pinged'. "He is satisfied," she reported, gravely.

I thought I was going to break an ankle trying to walk down the steps in the spike heels she had chosen for me. I clung onto her arm, and to my surprise she swept me up and carried me to the car. She couldn't weigh an ounce more than me, but she lifted me effortlessly, without even a grimace.

Her driving was fast but controlled. We arrived in Shreveport in less than thirty minutes, and neither of us had a hair out of place.


	7. Chapter 7

Pam helped me down from her SUV, and offered me her arm as I tottered across the parking lot in my unfamiliar spike heels. There were a few cars, but no lights on outside the club. Anyone turning up hoping for a night with the vampires would have gone away disappointed. The door swung open just as we approached, then clicked shut firmly behind us.

As soon as we entered I realised how different I looked to all the other donors. They were all dressed in regulation fang-banger black, the outfits admittedly rather more sophisticated that on the night of the auditions, but my outfit was in a class of its own. All at once everything fell into place and a sinking feeling began to develop in the pit of my stomach. Eric's visit to my home, the invite to Fangtasia, even having Pamela Ravenscroft as my personal stylist, it could only be leading up to one thing. On tonight's donor menu, I was 'dish of the day'.

The bar had been the subject of a serious makeover, the tatty posters had disappeared, along with the neon signs. Huge vases with elaborate flower arrangements graced the bar and the velvet covered tables, and everything was lit with candles.

"It looks very nice," I whispered politely to Pam, knowing that she had been responsible.

"Thank you, it's certainly an improvement on the normal décor." She found Fangtasia tacky and I couldn't help but agree with her.

The donors were sat in silence for the most part, and I didn't need to read their thoughts to tell that they were apprehensive. The unexpected sophistication of the surroundings had raised the stakes, and they had realised that this was a very special event. I spotted Dawn wearing a black leather mini-dress and very heavy make-up. She stared at me but without a hint of recognition. A few of the Fangtasia vamps who I recognised were on hand, all immaculately, if soberly dressed.

Eric was sitting up on the dais on his intricately carved wooden chair, looking as disinterested as anyone possibly could. I wondered how many centuries it had taken him to perfect that expression. He looked quite magnificent; he could easily have passed for a movie star. He was wearing a silver-grey three piece suit which was perfect for his colouring, with a black shirt underneath. His hair was pulled back in what I later found out was an elaborate braid.

As Pam and I crossed the room, I was gratified to see his eyes widen momentarily before he forced his features back into their mask. He watched us as we walked slowly to the bar, me on account of the height of my heels and the tightness of my skirt, and Pam, well just because she's Pam.

I could see him in the mirror, the idea that vampires have no reflection being a complete fiction apparently. As I watched he raised himself slowly out of the chair and sauntered across the room to where we stood.

"Miss Stackhouse, you look…..stunning….. even better than the picture." Unless he was a very good actor indeed the slight hesitation in his voice, and the look in his eyes, convinced me that he was genuinely impressed. I get told I'm pretty all the time, but this compliment was different and for the first time in my life I felt really beautiful.

His praise made me feel quite awkward. "You can thank Pam, she chose the dress, and did my hair and make-up."

"Oh, don't thank me, I had good material," Pam smirked, just a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "I just hope our guest of honor appreciates it."

Eric gave her a meaningful look as he held out his hand to me. I took it and let him guide me up to the dais, where a second chair had appeared next to his. I took deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves, and Eric patted my hand reassuringly.

Pam had confirmed my suspicions and I couldn't stay silent. I leant in close hoping that I could whisper without anyone else hearing. "Eric, you never told me I'd be donating to the king. What if he realises I can't be glamoured? Are you sure this is a good idea?"

He sounded calm enough as he replied, "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Just do as the king asks, he has a reputation for being a gentleman, I'm sure he won't hurt you." I would have preferred it if he had sounded just a little more confident about the last part.

"Why me anyway?" I didn't think there was any chance of Eric changing his mind, not after having gone to so much trouble to get me ready, but I had to try. "I'm so inexperienced. Surely there are plenty of other people who can give him what he wants."

"Look around you, Sookie, you are easily the most beautiful woman in the room, naturally the King will expect to have you, how could you think otherwise?"

If he thought flattery would soothe me, he was quite wrong and my feelings showed very clearly on my face.

"Please don't scowl, it doesn't suit you," he continued, speaking to me as if I were a small child. "It might be advisable not to tell him too much about yourself. I would suggest you don't give your name, at least not your real name."

Great, that was really reassuring. What did he expect me to do, call myself 'Destiny' or 'Honey' like some kind of whore. I was angry, upset and tense all at the same time; not a good start to the evening. I've never been a drinker but right then I could have killed for a large gin and tonic.

Eric took my hand and traced small circles on the palm. It was very hard to stay mad with him when he did that, whatever my brain might think, my body had a will of its own as far as he was concerned.

"Don't worry," he looked deep into my eyes, as if forgetting that he couldn't glamour me. "I'll make sure to watch over you, everything will be fine."

Then there was no more time to be concerned, as the door from the cellar opened and the monarchs emerged with their entourages. I stared open-mouthed at the first two vampires who appeared. They were giants, at least as tall as Eric but twice as broad, both with bushy chestnut hair and beards and carrying a serious array of weaponry. Behind them was a short woman, who I guessed must be the queen. She had that look that really rich people have, perfectly groomed, not a hair out of place.

They were followed by a couple of heavy set, black-suited goons. They were wearing dark glasses just to ensure everyone knew they were really menacing. Behind them was a stunningly handsome guy. He looked maybe mid-thirties, and reminded me of Marlon Brando, before he went to seed. He had to be the king. Call me shallow, but I was at least relieved that he wasn't old and ugly.

As the queen approached I tried to get a better look at her without staring. She had the face and body of a young teenager, which made her world-weary expression quite incongruous. She was dressed like a middle-aged matron. Her suit was a similar style to the one Pam was wearing, although the check pattern was purple and black with black piping around the edges. She carried a designer handbag with a logo of interlocking C shapes. Some girls in Bon Temps had cheap imitations from Walmart but hers was undoubtedly the real thing.

I wondered if Pam had known what the queen would be wearing when she had chosen her outfit. Of the two she looked more stylish and I caught the two women exchanging a brief glance which was most definitely not complimentary.

Eric gave a low bow, and Pam curtsied. I wasn't quite sure what to do so I gave a little bob of my head which I hoped was respectful enough.

"I hope that you are pleased with the donors we have chosen for you," Eric said. I'd been so busy gawping at the royal party that I hadn't noticed Pam bring a young man onto the stage. I wasn't sure he was over eighteen, he certainly looked younger. He had perfect skin, a creamy caramel colour, huge brown eyes and curly hair which hung down to his shoulders. Pam must have glamoured him before bringing him forward as he had a blank expression, and when I tried to listen into his thoughts I could hear only a soft buzzing.

The queen looked him up and down as if she were inspecting a new outfit that had been selected for her. She indicated her approval with a curt nod and took him over to a corner of the stage which had been curtained off for a semblance of privacy.

I kept my eyes fixed firmly downwards, and my expression blank. I could feel the king's gaze on me.

"For your majesty," Eric's manner was quite excessively deferential – there was a word for it but I was too nervous to bring it to mind, "I have something very special. I must warn you though, she is rather strong willed. Your glamour may be stronger than mine, but she will tell you if there are things she is not willing to do."

The king looked me up and down slowly, his eyes lingering over my neck and cleavage. "Very nice, you have chosen well Sheriff," he drawled in a heavy accent. "Come my dear, I am very much looking forward to tasting you."

I drew in a deep breath and took the hand he offered me. He flashed me a smile showing his perfect white teeth, a hint of fang already visible. "Auguste Cesario, at your service my dear," he said, in a smarmy tone which creeped me out just a little.

Eric gestured in the direction of his office out back. I could tell that he was avoiding my eyes as we turned to leave.

The room had been completely transformed. The metal shelves of bar supplies had gone, along with Eric's desk and the tatty old couch. The walls were hung with red velvet drapes, and several large candles stood on wrought iron stands. The only furniture in the room was an old-fashioned chaise-longue, also upholstered in red velvet. I felt like the bride of Dracula.

King Auguste Cesario looked around him approvingly. He took my hand and pulled me in closer to him, resting his hands on my hips and looking me up and down appraisingly.

"Tell me about yourself?" he asked, and despite my nerves I had to admit that his accent was seriously sexy.

"There's not much to tell, really," I forced a smile, "I'm a waitress in a small town north of here."

"So I am your first vampire?" he sounded very pleased at the thought.

"Yes," I simpered. I didn't feel bad about lying to him. It might make him less suspicious if my behaviour was a bit odd, and if he was any kind of gentleman he would go a bit easier on me.

He fixed his gaze on me and I knew that he was trying the hypnotism thing. I could recognise the effects, like little darts trying to enter my brain but somehow bouncing off. I composed my features into the blank expression that I'd practised with Pam.

"It's very warm in here," he drawled in a slow, dark voice.

As vampires feel neither heat nor cold, I knew what was coming next; the Vampire Guide to Seduction must be a very short book. At least his being so predictable gave me time to prepare myself.

"You don't look very comfortable; perhaps you would like to slip out of your dress?" He looked at me hopefully.

I shook my head with a slow steady motion.

Surprisingly, he didn't ask me again, but took a seat on the fancy couch, and held out a hand. "Come here," he was smiling, but it was still an order.

There was no way I could refuse him, and I didn't even bother trying to keep my distance. He pulled me in close and ran his fingers up and down my arm, then across my chest, dipping a finger down into my cleavage. Luckily for me, the dress was too tight to allow him much access.

Then he lowered my head down across his chest, forcing me to swing my legs up onto the couch. The skirt fell right away, exposing my thighs. His fangs ran fully down with a click and his eyes grew heavy with lust. I recognised the look; it's pretty much the same in a vampire as it is in a regular guy. He ran his cool fingers up and down my inner thigh. If Eric had been doing the same thing, I'm sure it wouldn't have been long before I was wriggling in ecstasy, but Auguste didn't have the same effect on me. I thought I'd better show willing though so I gave a breathy moan which I hope sounded sexier to him than it did to me.

How on earth did women who had to do this all the time for a living manage? No wonder so many of them dulled their feelings with drugs or alcohol.

"You are so beautiful," the king said in a low voice, his accent growing even thicker. He sounded like a character out of The Godfather – that was one of Jason's favourite movies so I'd seen it a few times.

"Thank you, your majesty," I replied, in a voice as devoid of emotion as I could manage.

"Perhaps you would like to…" he had that hopeful expression again as his fingers tested the edges of my red lace thong.

"I'm sorry, no, I didn't give my consent. There are plenty of other women who will be happy to be of service to you when we return to the bar." The hopeful look turned to one of surprise; he hadn't expected to be contradicted. He tried the glamour thing again, looking deep into my eyes.

"You will let me make love to you." His voice was more forceful this time.

"No, I do not consent." I kept my voice even and firm, trying my hardest not to show any fear.

Amazingly, he seemed to take 'no' for an answer. He contented himself with kissing my shoulders and the tops of my breasts then, without warning, he bit hard into my neck. It took all my self-control not to scream out in pain.

He began to moan as he sucked harder. The grip of his teeth was firmer than Eric's had been when he had auditioned me, and was it was matched by the increasing pressure of his arms tightening around my body. I was struggling to breathe and felt really scared, fearing he would never let me go.

"Please, your majesty," I whimpered plaintively, trying to maintain a semblance of politeness. Eric had promised that he would stop when I asked him, but he showed no sign of doing so.

"You're hurting me," I said, more forcefully now, but I don't think he was even conscious of my presence. He was still sucking hard and moaning loudly and I was beginning to feel faint.

"Please stop!" I had no choice but to shout, in the hope that someone might hear and save me. The room was beginning to spin and I could barely keep my eyes open. I didn't care anymore what he thought; I just didn't want to be drained.

To my relief the door to the office opened, and I dimly recognised the distinctive tall blond figure of Eric Northman.

"Is your donor satisfactory?" I heard him ask, through the haze which filled my brain. Getting no response he crossed the room and tapped Auguste on the shoulder. Finally he was forced to pull him off me. I must have blacked out for a few seconds.

When I came to, Auguste was draped limply over his end of the couch. He didn't look angry at the interruption, just dazed and rather confused.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked weakly.

"I asked if the donor met with your approval," Eric repeated, as if I wasn't in the room.

"She is most unusual, quite the most intoxicating blood I have tasted in a long time, where did you find her?" His speech was slow and slurred.

"I believe she lives in the north of the state, it is an isolated area, inbred you know. That is probably what accounts for the blood."

I was far too weak to react to their rudeness, drifting in and out of consciousness as they continued to talk about me as if I wasn't there.

"I am disappointed though that she refused to disrobe for me," the King continued.

"I can understand that, she is very lovely after all, but she is a new girl and so a little shy. Perhaps I may be able to persuade her later."

_Obsequious_, that was the word I had been looking for earlier to describe Eric's manner. It might have impressed the king, but it made me feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Queen Sophie-Anne is asking after you, sire," Eric continued, "perhaps you should rejoin the others."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're right," Auguste replied uncertainly, He got up and staggered across the room in a most un-regal fashion, more like one of the drunks in Merlotte's.

As soon as he had left the room Eric's manner changed. "Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling beside me, looking concerned.

"I think so," I replied weakly, "he was so rough though, I thought he was going to drain me."

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect him to go so far. You look very pale, perhaps if you had a little of my blood you would feel better."

I really wasn't sure about that. I'd read about the effects of 'V', as the vampire blood used by addicts was called. It could drive you crazy, people said, and was more addictive that the strongest heroin.

"There's nothing to worry about," Eric continued, as if he were the one who could read my mind. "There is no danger when it's freely given, from the source."

I was still doubtful, but I was feeling so weak and sick that I could barely move. Just a little wouldn't hurt surely. I nodded my acceptance and he raised his wrist to his mouth and bit into it, then held it out to me. I took a tentative sip, then another. It tasted nothing like I was expecting, it was rich and really rather sweet, like a fancy California Claret I'd once sampled at a wedding where Sam and I were keeping bar.

After a few more seconds he took his wrist away. Not a moment too soon as, despite everything I had just been through, my body had started to react to his presence in an all too familiar way. I wondered why he had this effect on me when no other vampire appeared to.

"Come," he said, "we need to get back to our guests."

It must have been the effect of his blood as I felt almost normal again as I stood up. It didn't make walking in those heels any easier though and I clung tightly onto his arm we went back into the bar. The party was in full swing. All around the room vampires were feeding on humans, or having sex with them, or both. I was getting used to it now and walked past as if it wasn't happening. Auguste seemed to have recovered himself and was engaged in a serious conversation with Sophie-Anne, their heads close, and voices too low for me to hear.

Eric handed me up to one of the empty chairs on the dais, and I smiled politely at the vampire monarchs, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be sharing a stage with them.

Auguste looked very pleased to see me. His eyes lit up and fixed me with a stare which was frankly quite terrifying. I was very glad we were in a relatively public place, as I wouldn't have trusted him not to leap on me again and drain all the blood from my body.

"I like this one very much," he said to Eric, for all the world as if I wasn't sitting right there next to them.

"I'm glad you approve, I chose her especially for you, majesty."

"Perhaps she would like to visit with me to New York?"

I watched Eric, while trying not to look at him, and noticed a muscle in his neck twitch. His tone of voice revealed nothing though, as he replied, "She has family here, sire, I think she would be very reluctant to leave."

"In that case I hope she will favour me with a dance." He stood up and offered me his hand.

"Of course she will," Eric replied, fixing me with a meaningful stare.

I had no choice but to smile, stand up and allow him to lead me over to the dance floor. However angry I was at the way I was being treated, I was meant to be glamoured into obedience and I really didn't want anyone realising the truth.

The band was playing romantic ballads from the sixties. The lead singer was a handsome black guy with the sweetest voice I'd ever heard. He had the faint glow which marked him out as a vampire and I wondered if he had been famous in his human life.

Unfortunately for me the music had everyone dancing close and slow. Auguste pulled me into a tight embrace. He was an excellent dancer but his hands were prone to wander. I could tell that he was getting excited, and not just on account of his fangs running down again.

After a couple of dances I used the excuse that my feet were killing me to have him lead me back to the stage. Sophie-Anne was deep in conversation with Eric so we took the seats next to Pam. She was scanning the room carefully and I suspected that she was on the lookout for anyone who was going too far. It really wouldn't do for Fangtasia to end up with a dead donor after all.

She noticed the king's state of arousal immediately, and beckoned to a blonde woman who appeared to be between vampires at that moment. She stepped up onto the dais, dropped to her knees and began to perform what was obviously her special skill on Auguste.

If she had been glamoured it had worn off and I was getting too tired to keep my shields fully up so I could hear her every thought. She took her work very seriously, focussing on her technique. It was hard to tell if she was enjoying it, but she was determined to give a good performance. I wondered how the king would feel if he could hear her as I did. It wasn't exactly romantic.

"It seems to be going very well," Pam whispered to me.

"If you call being nearly drained going well then I guess so," I hissed back, earning myself a warning stare. Luckily the king was completely focussed on his pleasure and didn't seem to hear me. As soon as the guests had left, I would be sure to tell Eric exactly what I thought.

Auguste had panted his way to a climax, readjusted his clothing and tipped the woman what looked like a fifty, when the Queen rose slowly to her feet. "Thank you everyone," she said in a clear, breathy voice, "you have all done very well. Now we must take our leave of you."

"Okay everyone, you can relax now," Pam announced as the last of the royal entourage swept out of the door. "Drinks all round, I think."

Longshadow appeared behind the bar and opened several bottles of champagne in quick succession, then headed for the booth where Dawn was sitting, no doubt intending to get a drink of his own.

Eric put his arm round me, and I wondered if he was planning to feed on me. "You did very well, my dear. The king was impressed and I'm very proud of you." His tone was patronising and I just saw red.

I don't think he was expecting me to slap him.

The whole room fell silent, waiting for his reaction. The Fangtasia vampires dropped fang, and stepped in closer, adopting what looked scarily like an attack position, crouched down and with their hands clawed. The humans fell back, mouths open with shock.

Eric's managed to supress his rage was supressed but I could feel it seeping out of every pore on his body. He grabbed my arm so tightly that I think the blood stopped flowing, and dragged me out to his office.

"You're hurting me," I hissed as his grip tightened. I would have bruises for a week.

As soon as we were in the office he slammed the door and pushed me up against it, grabbing my other arm so now I would have a matching set of bruises.

"You are very lucky that I have not ripped your head off." It wasn't a joke; I could tell from his tone that he meant it. He continued in a slow and exaggerated voice, just to make clear how angry he was. "Do not ever do that again. If you disrespect me like that in front of my kind, I will be forced to punish you. Do you understand?"

I gave a sulky nod.

"Now are you going to explain to me what that was all about?"

"Eric, the king nearly drained me, I could have died, how can you say it went well."

"Please don't be so melodramatic, Sookie. Eric was waiting outside the office the whole time you were in there with the King. He would never let anything happen to you." Pam had followed us into the office to add her contribution.

I looked at Eric for confirmation.

"I should have intervened earlier but I didn't want to risk upsetting the king. His deal with Sophie-Anne is essential for all our futures. Pam is correct though, I would not have let anything happen to you."

I wanted to carry on being angry with him but it was hard when he looked so sincere, at least as far as I could tell. Reluctantly, I accepted his apology and offered one of my own, "I'm sorry I slapped you. I won't do it again."

"Good, we will say no more about it. Pam, get Sookie a glass of champagne please."

Pam turned on her heel and stalked out, obviously not best pleased at being ordered around like a common waitress. Eric meanwhile had settled me on the couch.e

Even if I had still been mad at him, my feet were aching and it was a pleasure to sit down and kick off those ridiculous heels. Eric leant down to pick up my feet and began to massage them. I sighed at the exquisite pleasure and closed my eyes. His hands were strong but surprisingly gentle, and the coolness of his touch was wonderfully soothing. I think he enjoyed it too, he had a big smile on his face, his previous anger all forgotten. He stroked my legs, running his fingers up and down my inner thighs as the king had done, but this time with electrifying effect, sending shivers of pleasure through my whole body.

We were interrupted by a knock on the door. Pam entered without waiting for a reply. "Here is Sookie's champagne," she said, thrusting a half full bottle at me. "I'm clearing the bar out," she continued curtly. "I don't think we've got time to get home, so I'll go to ground in the cellar, do you want to join me." All this was addressed to Eric; she didn't give me a second glance. I wasn't sure what I'd done to upset her but she didn't look happy.

I cleared my throat hesitantly, "Uh, how am I going to get home?" I asked, sounding plaintive. The twenty dollar bill in my purse wouldn't cover the cost of a taxi back to Bon Temps, in the unlikely event that I could find one that would take me.

Eric and Pam looked at one another. "Get some cushions from the bar, Pam," he ordered. "You can sleep here. I'll drive you home in the evening when we rise." All this was said in a tone of voice that made it clear he didn't expect to be contradicted, by either of us.

"Do you have anything I could sleep in?" I asked, looking down at my dress.

He pulled back one of the fancy drapes and retrieved a _Fangtasia_ promotional T-shirt. I waited for a moment, thinking he might turn his back or something chivalrous like that, but I was forgetting that modesty just wasn't a concept as far as vampires were concerned. Trying my hardest not to show discomfort, I unzipped the dress and stepped out of it. I wasn't surprised that Eric's gaze fixed on my breasts, and of course Pam chose that moment to re-enter the room with the cushions, so she made sure to take a good look too.

"Thanks," I said as she laid some cushions out on the couch. Eric unhooked some of the thick drapes which had been used to decorate the room and spread them over the couch.

"I hope you will be comfortable," he said, "you may be disturbed by the cleaners in the morning, but just ignore them. We keep a small kitchen for our human staff behind the bar if you find yourself hungry or thirsty."

Pam was looking twitchy. "Come Eric, the sun is already up."

He paused briefly to brush his cool lips across mine. "Until tonight, Sookie," he said, and then he was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

"Sookie, wake up, are you alright?" Eric's voice shook me back to consciousness and I did that brief double-take thing where you're not quite sure where you are. As I shifted uncomfortably on the narrow couch, my whole body aching, the events of the night before came back into focus.

"I feel like shit." I don't normally use such unladylike language, and Gran surely wouldn't have approved, but right now I felt like I'd spent the night sleeping in the cage of some wild animal, with the babies nesting in my mouth.

I looked like shit as well, I realised, when I went to the employee rest room to clean up. Pam's beautiful make up was smeared over my face and my hair was all awry. "Could you ask Pam if she has a brush I could borrow?" I yelled through the open door.

The female vampire appeared silently at my side – I hate it how they can do that without any warning.

"You look terrible," she confirmed.

Trust Pam to tell it like it is. She pulled a hairbrush out of a bag and began to work the tangles out, then pinned my hair back up in an approximation of neatness. She was surprisingly gentle as she wiped my face down with cream cleanser, reapplied a pale pink lipstick and a touch of light brown eyeliner. I was starting to get a feel for vampire body language and it was pretty clear she was still pissed at me. I wish I knew what I had done to upset her.

The Fangtasia T-shirt I'd slept in reached a decent length down around my thighs but I didn't feel comfortable about wearing it home, just in case anyone spotted me.

I squeezed myself back into the red dress, but didn't bother with the heels. Eric chivalrously drove his Corvette round to the front of the club to pick me up so I only had to take a few painful steps across the rough surface of the parking lot. Somehow I managed to manoeuvre myself into the low bucket seat, although the angle meant that most of my legs were exposed to his admiring gaze.

I tried not to be impressed by the car but it was just impossible, especially once we got out of Shreveport and hit the highway, when he took her up to seventy. I took the pins out of my hair and let it fly in the breeze, savouring the sensation. Eric's driving was fast but perfectly controlled. He didn't bother to brake, even into the sharpest of bends, but I didn't feel even a moment's apprehension.

The moon was full but in the distance I could see heavy black clouds which looked as if they hung directly over Bon Temps. I wondered if they were some kind of omen of trouble ahead.

"Are you still angry with me, Sookie?" Eric asked, raising his voice to be heard over the roar of the engine and the wind in my ears. He didn't look at me though, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

I considered my answer carefully. Anger is such a hard emotion to maintain, it flares then burns itself out. I've never been one to hold a grudge either, always following Gran's advice never to let the sun set on an argument.

"No, I'm not angry with you, not any more. If there's anyone I should be angry with it's myself. I should have thought more carefully about what I was getting myself into. You were rude though, you and the king, talking about me as if I wasn't there. "

"It is the vampire way. We are not used to having to show respect to humans." It wasn't an apology, just a statement of fact, and that seemed to close the subject as far as he was concerned.

With his driving it took hardly any time to reach the outskirts of Bon Temps and I pointed out the turn-off for Hummingbird Lane, laughing as Eric grumbled at the deteriorating road surface. Just wait till he sees my drive, I thought, ruefully. Sure enough my potholes got a mouthful of what I assume was abuse, although I couldn't understand a word he was saying.

He helped me out of the car and gave me his arm for support as I picked my way gingerly across the gravel to the front porch.

"Thanks for bringing me home," I said politely, wondering if maybe he'd kiss me goodbye. Okay, make that kind of hoping he would. He did nothing of the sort though, just stood in the doorway looking at me expectantly.

"I need to talk to you Sookie. Please invite me in."

I was tempted to make him wait on the porch but I really needed to shower and change, and I just wasn't raised to be that rude.

"Won't you please come in, Mr Northman?" I asked politely. "Have a seat," I continued, indicating the living room. "I really have to shower." There was nothing I wanted more than to wash away all traces of the previous night.

"Perhaps you would like me to assist you?" Eric asked, flashing me a wicked grin.

"No, I'm good thank you." To be honest I felt the tiniest flicker of temptation at the thought of that gorgeous naked body up against mine, but I didn't want him to thinking I was some kind of easy lay, throwing myself at the first vampire who came along.

I took my time in the shower, washing and conditioning my hair and lathering myself all over with my best shower gel. I had no idea what Eric wanted to talk to me about, but I had a bad feeling that it would be something to do with vampire politics and I wanted to put the moment off as long as possible. After ten minutes the water began to run cold and I was forced to get out and dry myself off.

It was a good thing I'd wrapped a towel tightly around myself, as Eric had abandoned his seat downstairs and made himself comfortable on my bed. Thankfully, he was lying on top of the covers, and had kept his clothes on, although he'd kicked off his boots which lay at crooked angles on the floor. I pulled a face but knew it was pointless to remonstrate with him; in the course of our brief acquaintance I'd worked out that Eric did pretty much whatever Eric wanted to do.

Fixing the towel as securely as I could, I picked up a hairbrush from the dresser and began to work it through my hair.

"Let me help you with that," Eric offered, sitting up to perch himself on the edge of the bed. I held out the brush and sat down next to him. He separated my hair into sections and worked carefully through each one, teasing out the tangles. I had a feeling he'd done this before. Maybe Pam made him do her styling.

He was silent for a while, but it was the awkward kind of silence when you know someone has something to say and can't quite work out how to start. Eventually he spoke.

"I should have anticipated the risk of letting the king feed on you: I knew your blood had a powerful effect but I failed to fully consider the consequences." He sounded more annoyed with himself for his lack of forethought than anything, but I guess for someone with his experience that was a big deal.

"Is it common, that kind of reaction?" You did read from time to time about humans being found drained, so I wondered if some vampires were more dangerous than others.

"Young vampires often can't control themselves, they don't know when to stop." We both knew that didn't apply to Auguste, Eric had already told me he was several hundred years old. "Also, " he continued, "some vampires have not accepted the new arrangements, they hope by draining a human to provoke a reaction which will drive us back underground."

"Eric...," I said in a tone of voice which made it quite clear that I wasn't buying either of those excuses.

"Every human's blood is very different. It is affected by their blood type, their family background – I have always found the blood of women from southern Europe and north Africa particularly attractive, for example."

As far as I knew the Stackhouse family were pure WASP, so that didn't apply to me. I did wonder if whatever had given me the power of hearing people's thoughts had also tainted my blood somehow. That was one suggestion I didn't plan on sharing with him.

He was silent for a while as he focussed on removing the last few tangles from my hair. I waited until he had finished, then pulled myself further up onto the bed so I could turn and look at him.

"I guess I'll be a lot safer if I stay away from vampires from now on; I don't think I'll be coming to Fangtasia again." It probably meant I would never see him again, but the price I might have to pay was way too high.

Eric regarded me with a look which seemed to mix concern with pity. I knew before he opened his mouth that whatever he was going to say wouldn't be good.

"It may not be as easy as that. You made a big impression last night; the Queen spoke very highly of you. She may well ask for you to come to her court in New Orleans."

"Well I just won't go." I huffed, petulantly.

"If she orders me to produce you, I will have no choice but to obey." Eric replied, sternly.

I was tempted to say that he couldn't do that, but I knew damn well that he could, and would, if he needed to. What a mess this was turning out to be.

"There is something I can do, if you agree." He was looking deadly serious now, not a hint of a smile. That made me even more nervous and I didn't trust myself to speak. I motioned to him to continue.

"I can take you as my acknowledged human companion."

"What does that involve?" I tried to sound as if I considered it to be a perfectly normal transaction, like signing up with a personal trainer.

"It means that you would be under my protection, and no other vampire would be able to claim you, at least not unless you consent or I rescind my rights over you."

That didn't sound too good to me, especially the claiming part.

"And if I don't agree?"

He replied with one of his little history lessons. "In the old days, we needed access to humans to feed, but it was not always possible to obtain their consent. However once you exchanged blood three times with a human with or withouth their permission, they were bound to you. You would protect them from other vampires, fight for them if necessary, at least until they were no longer useful to you. Nowadays, most vampires prefer their humans to give informed consent, but some still follow the old ways. One of these vampires may try to make you his own."

It was hard to believe that such a thing was possible in the twenty-first century, but it was obvious that Eric wasn't making this up.

"So I guess you get feeding rights, otherwise why would you do this for me?" I like to think I'd learned my lesson about biting off more than I could chew.

"I like you, I enjoy your company. You are intelligent, and you have spirit, for a human. I hope that at some time in the very near future you will consider having sex with me, and I am sure we will both enjoy that very much. Besides, I feel responsible for you. It was because of me that you have become entangled in our world."

He was lying back on the bed now, his golden hair spread out over the pillow looking like a fallen angel. Just the sight of him made my heart beat a little faster, and I cursed him silently for having this effect on me. The thunderstorm which had threatened was very close now, and the electricity in the atmosphere seemed to crackle around the room.

"So what do I have to do to become your companion?" I was pretty sure it was going to involve sex, which to be honest wouldn't be a terrible hardship, but it wasn't the most romantic of proposals.

"We need to share blood, I have already had your blood once and you have had mine, so a second time will confirm the link between us. We could do it now if you wish?" The look in his eyes suggested that it was something he was going to enjoy a great deal.

I shook my head; I needed more time to think.

"What else do I need to know about this blood sharing – it won't turn me into a vampire will it?" I shuddered with horror at that thought.

"No," Eric smiled, "that is a much more complex process. I will be honest with you. If we share blood it will have some effects. We will be able to sense each other's feelings, and…" he hesitated and looked at me carefully, "and you will experience a heightened feeling of sexuality."

As if I wasn't feeling that already; just from being near him.

"So you're saying any feelings I have won't be real?" I asked.

"No, that's not what I said, what I mean is that they will be heightened."

I wondered if that would affect him as well as me.

"It is not all one way," he confirmed, "it is a long time since I have taken as human as a permanent companion. It is not an arrangement to be entered into lightly. I will be faithful to you, and protect you. You will be second only to Pam."

"Was that what Pam was, your human companion, before she became a vampire?"

"No, I turned Pam the night I met her."

I would love to hear that story, but there were far more important matters to sort out right now, so I kept to the topic in hand. "Can I have a few days to think about it? This all seems like a very big deal to me."

"It is a very big deal. I suggest that you don't take too long to decide though."

I should have kept my distance, but I was just too tired, and in the course of our conversation I had shifted into a more comfortable position, which had me lying down right next to him. It might have been my fault or it might have been his, but somehow the towel I had wrapped around me so tightly came loose and fell down to my waist. Eric took advantage and lifted me up so I was leaning back against him.

"You have the most beautiful breasts," he said, demonstrating his point by cupping them in his hands and teasing my nipples with his thumbs.

"Look," he said, guiding my head so I could see our reflection in the full length mirror across the room. The golden tan of my skin contrasted with the pure ivory white of his arms. Our hair mingled, almost identical in colour. I watched as he caressed and kneaded my breasts, his eyes dark with lust. It was a powerfully erotic sight.

A little voice in my head was telling me this was a really bad idea, even while my body was insisting that it was a very good one indeed. For once I listened to the sensible voice. "Eric," it was barely more than a whisper, "please, I don't think this is a good idea. I'm just not ready."

He didn't reply but trailed a hand down my stomach so that the towel completely disappeared. His cool fingers found their way between my legs and began to stroke and probe. I did nothing to stop him at first, the feeling was too exquisite. Then that little voice in my head started to shout out again. I pulled my knees together tight like a good Christian girl should, and Eric withdrew his hand. He turned me effortlessly in his arms so I was sitting astride him, my breasts brushing the cotton of his vest.

He whispered in my ear. "I will wait until you are ready for me; I know it will be memorable whenever it happens." Coming from anyone else that would have sounded outrageously arrogant, but from Eric it was just a statement of fact.

Then, to seal the deal, he kissed me. Maybe it's all his years of experience, but I've never been kissed like that before. It seemed to go on for ever, the room went dark as the thunderstorm broke above Bon Temps and raged around us. Eventually, and with the greatest reluctance, he pushed me gently away and raised himself up off the bed.

"Sookie, please be careful. If anything suspicious happens you must call me." He extracted a card from his wallet and laid it down on the top of the dresser. "My personal cell number is on the card."

My Gran's old necklace caught his attention. I'd left it lying open in its box after I'd worn it for my evening at Fangtasia. He picked it up and threaded it through his fingers.

"This is very beautiful, where did you get it?" he asked, he was trying to sound casual but he didn't.

"It belonged to my Gran, she…" I trailed off. It suddenly struck me that Gran had told me the origin of every other piece of jewellery she owned. A few were family heirlooms and she knew exactly who had owned them, going back three or four generations. Some, Grandpa had bought for her, and she would tell me when and where, and even how he'd earned the money. This necklace was different. She never said a word about it, and for some reason I'd never asked.

"Do you think it's valuable?" I asked, wondering if that was why he was so interested in it.

"I don't think so, but if you like I could try to find out more about it for you." He watched while I thought about it for a couple of seconds, then nodded my agreement.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind?" He asked, as he sat down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. The look on his face said it all.

I shook my head slowly, after that kiss it took a lot of self-control not to just nod my acceptance.

"Think about what I have said, and when you have reached a decision, call me." Then he was gone and I was left alone with my thoughts and my unfulfilled desires.

When I woke up I was alone, with the sunlight streaming through the windows and that wonderful fresh feeling you get when a storm has cleared the air. I wished the conversation last night would have cleared the air between Eric and me, but instead it left me more confused and concerned than ever.

I lay in bed for a long time, considering what it might mean to become Eric's 'human'. I hardly knew him for a start. He was easily the best-looking guy I had ever met, and I couldn't ignore the sexual attraction, but it's not a sound basis for a long-term relationship. Then there was the near certainty that I would never be able to escape the machinations of vampire politics. That was a word I'd been waiting months to use but now I finally had the opportunity I rather wished I hadn't.

While it would be great to be with someone without the strain of keeping my shields up all the time, there would also be a downside of taking a vampire as a lover – I would never be able to wake up next to him, or have breakfast together, or just sit in bed chatting about the day ahead like normal people did. '_Whoah there, Sookie_' I was getting way ahead of myself. I hadn't agreed to go to bed with him yet, although I think I knew already that it was just a matter of time.

I called in sick to work that evening. I really don't like letting Sam down, but I was mentally exhausted from running over and over the options I had, and I just couldn't face all the people. I tried to pretend that everything would go back to normal, but of course I knew it never would.


	9. Chapter 9

It was obvious that something was wrong as soon as I walked into Merlotte's for my shift on Wednesday night. People were talking in the hushed voices that indicated that some tragedy had taken place but at the same time there was a feeling of excitement in the air. I hadn't heard the news for days, I wondered if there had been a terrorist attack or something.

I'd barely made it through the door when Arlene grabbed me and hustled me out back. She was obviously dying to be the first to tell me what was going on.

"It's Dawn, she's dead," she announced without ceremony.

"But I…" I was going to say that I'd only seen her a couple of days ago, but that would set off far too many questions, so instead I just asked how.

"Murdered!" Arlene adopted a tone of doomed inevitability, as if she had always known Dawn's life would end in tragedy.

Eventually I managed to find out that she'd been found early this morning in a Dumpster just outside the perimeter fence of the Shreveport airport. Her neck had been broken.

"I blame the vamps," Arlene added darkly, but with just a hint of satisfaction. I knew she wasn't too happy having to share our world with supernatural beings. "Can you imagine, one of those blood-suckers was here in Merlotte's. He was real handsome too, but I didn't let that turn my head, I let him know exactly what I thought of him."

That seemed very unlikely, given that Arlene was well known to be desperately searching for husband number four, or was it five, I'd lost track. It was more likely that the vampire had rejected her.

"Anyway Dawn, you know what she's like…was like.." she corrected herself, "she'll flirt with anyone, even the new recruits from Bossier City. Well, she was all over him like a rash. Sam had to tell her to get back to work. Then, when we were on our break, she said she was going out after work on a big date, and I wasn't to tell anyone. I should have warned her. I knew something terrible was going to happen."

I was sure she had known nothing of the sort but Arlene always did like to over-dramatize. I felt a cold shiver of fear though. It seemed like a pretty big co-incidence to me that Dawn and I were blood-donors at the same event and a couple of days later she winds up dead.

Eric had said to call him if anything suspicious happened. This certainly counted as suspicious. I wondered if I should wait till I got home, but I had his card in my purse so I went out back to Sam's office to make the call.

"Eric Northman," he answered, sounding very business-like. He probably didn't recognise the caller ID.

"It's Sookie. You know you said to call me if…."

He cut me off abruptly. "Where are you now? I will be there immediately."

Knowing his driving I reckoned I had about twenty-five minutes so I busied myself with my tables and arranged to swop break-times with Holly, the other waitress on shift tonight.

I was alerted to Eric's presence by an odd, shivery feeling, half apprehension and half lust. It took me a minute to realise what had caused it, but then I remembered what he'd said about the effect of having his blood. It made me wonder which feelings were his and which were mine.

He had parked down the dark end of the lot, and was leaning against the Corvette, looking impossibly gorgeous, as ever. As I got close, he reached out to put his hands on my hips and pull me into a kiss. It didn't last long; he pushed me away with a look of distaste.

"When is Sam Merlotte going to get himself a decent cook?" he asked, obviously not a fan of Lafayette's special barbeque sauce, which I had sampled earlier.

"Lafayette is a very good cook, the best in Bon Temps, everyone says so." I had to defend my friend.

Eric made a dismissive gesture, we were wasting time. "Why did you call me, Sookie?"

I explained about Dawn and asked if he remembered her from the summit.

"Honestly, Sookie, no. I'm sorry to say that most of the fangbangers look the same to me."

I described her and how she had been with Longshadow, the Fangtasia bartender. That seemed to get his interest.

"You say vampires are suspected?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"That's what everyone round here is saying. One came to the bar last night, and she was flirting with him. Then she announces she has a hot date, and winds up dead."

"The events you describe are not entirely sequential," he noted, gravely, "but nevertheless it does require further investigation. Do you know anything about this stranger?"

"No, the only thing anyone noticed was that he was smartly-dressed, and good-looking." That combination was so unusual in Sam's bar that no-one thought to ask any further.

"It may be co-incidence," he didn't sound as if he believed that, "but I think you should take extra care until the culprits are apprehended."

That was fine by me. The fact that he was taking it seriously made me feel even more nervous than I had when I'd first heard the news.

"I will wait until you have finished your shift, and then escort you home." He started to walk with me back in the direction of the bar.

I winced, "Eric, I'm sorry but with everything that's happened I don't think vampires are going to be real popular in town." Plus I'd have to explain to everyone how I knew him. It was just a bad idea all round. Luckily for me he saw the sense in what I was saying and agreed to wait in the car.

It may have been the impact of Dawn's death, but no-one seemed in the mood to make a night of it. The bar was empty by eleven, well except for Jane Bodenhouse, who could probably drink her way through a nuclear holocaust. Sam just threw her out though. He had to worry about how to cover Dawn's shifts and how to find a replacement. No-one would be keen to fill a dead woman's shoes.

I kept well below the speed limit as I drove home, Eric following close behind. It would be just my luck for Sheriff Dearborn to decide to run his annual speed check, just when I was in the company of a vampire and even though Eric was probably used to glamouring himself out of trouble, I didn't want to take the risk. Also my car was making some very strange groaning noises that didn't sound good. I did get a certain childish pleasure out of forcing Eric to drive his Corvette real slow. I could hear the roar of his engine close behind and could imagine him cussing me.

Eventually he had enough, overtook me on a blind bend and was waiting by the front door when I pulled up. To be more accurate he was leaning nonchalantly against it, arms folded, looking as if he owned the place.

I unlocked the door and let him follow me in, knowing that as I'd invited him once he could come in any time, unless I un-invited him. "I'm going to have a shower," I announced.

"Good, you smell of beer and sweat," Eric snapped. I think he was pissed because he knew I wouldn't let him shower with me.

This time he waited downstairs, and I made sure to put on some old pyjamas. When I came back down, I was astounded to see that he was building a fire in the big old grate which dominated the room. I'd left a pile of logs to dry out so they'd be ready for winter.

"Eric, it's not exactly the time of year for a fire."

He looked at me over his shoulder, quite crestfallen, "Oh, but I like to have a fire, it reminds me of my human life."

Of course, he lived in the days before central heating, before gas and electricity even. That was hard to imagine. Feeling sorry for him, I said he could finish building it, but not light it. I couldn't afford to be wasting logs, even if Jason did get a ready supply from the road crew.

"I'll leave it there and light it in the winter," I promised, thinking that it would remind me of him. As he worked I watched the way the muscles in his shoulder rippled. Every now and then he would shake his hair back from where it had fallen to hang down in front of his face. He took enormous care with the placing of every log and I had no doubt that once lit it would burn for hours.

When he'd finished, he went to the kitchen to wash his hands. Remembering my manners I apologised for not offering him a True Blood, but I hadn't had time to go to the store. That wasn't quite true. I hadn't decided whether I was going to go through with the whole 'protection' thing, and stocking up with his favourite beverage seemed to be tempting fate.

"It doesn't matter," he said, although I'm not sure he didn't take a sideways glance at my neck. "Old vampires like myself do not need to feed very often."

Then he took a seat next to me, draping his arm casually over the back of the couch. I thought I was relaxed, but Eric evidently knew better.

"What is wrong," he asked, looking concerned.

"I was just thinking of Dawn. I still can't believe it."

"Was she your friend?"

I had to admit that she wasn't really. I'm not sure she had ever forgiven me for saying to Jason that I thought she was cheap. Jason, being particularly dumb about these things, had repeated every word I'd said back to her.

Eric couldn't understand why I was upset about someone I didn't even care about. I didn't bother trying to explain. He would just have to accept that it was a human thing.

"I have been considering the options," he said, getting us back to the reason for him being here. "We could be jumping to conclusions, thinking there is any link between her death and the summit. We were careful to maintain the anonymity of all of the donors. Pam was the only person who had a full record of their personal details. I only saw the names when I signed the checks, and Longshadow as well, as he is the second signatory on our business checking account. No-one apart from the three of us would know that she had been there. She obviously liked vampires, there are many ways she could have come to harm in our company."

"Do you really think that?" I asked. I was also wondering why they would go to so much trouble to protect creatures who they viewed as no more than disposable ready meals, something didn't quite ring true about that. Before I could challenge it though, Eric had continued his train of thought.

"I made some calls while you were in the shower. None of my people know anything about the murder."

"Your _people" _I repeated.

"My vampires, if you want to be precise. I am the Sheriff of the area of northern Louisiana known as Area five. I report to the Queen for all vampire activity in this area."

Of course, it made perfect sense; if they had kings and queens, why not sheriffs? It explained a lot. "What does it involve, being a sheriff?" I wondered if he would tell me.

"It is a very old tradition. As the numbers of vampire in the old world grew, kings and queens could not control all their activities alone. A system was needed to ensure that no-one steeped too far out of line and inadvertently revealed our presence to humans."

"Are you allowed to tell me about your duties?"

"I administer the queen's business in this area. I deal with minor misdemeanours, crimes against humans, petty disputes between vampires, that sort of thing. Any serious crimes committed by one vampire against another are judged by the Queen."

Of course I shouldn't have been surprised that crimes against humans were considered 'minor'. I was beginning to realise that vampires may be willing to live openly amongst us but they certainly didn't consider us their equals. Another thought popped into my head. "What if the Queen commits a crime, who judges her?"

He looked stony faced. "There are some things I am not permitted to share with you," was all he said.

A lot of things fell into place, things that I should have realised earlier, like why he was the one who organised the summit, and why he was so deferential to the king and queen. And, of course, why me slapping him was such a big deal.

"Eric, I'm sorry I slapped you, did it make you look bad?" I tried to sound suitably contrite.

"Luckily only a few of my most trusted vampires witnessed it. They have been informed that you will be punished. Pam was not happy though. She is very loyal and does not like to see me disrespected."

Uh-oh, I thought, that would explain her sudden coldness towards me.

"Anyway, now you realise the significance, I'm sure I can rely on you to behave more appropriately in future." As he said that he pulled me closer so that my head rested against his shoulder.

We sat like that, in silence, for a long time. It was odd not to hear his heart beating or to feel the rise and fall of his chest, but it was comforting to be in his embrace.

When he finally spoke it was to raise a subject which I wasn't expecting. "You are not ready to take me as your lover," he stated.

I was surprised that he was so perceptive. "I know it sounds old-fashioned, and it must seem ridiculous to you," I replied, "but I'd like to date a guy, really get to know him first, before…you know."

"Date?" he said, sounding confused.

"Oh, come on Eric, you must know what a date is, you've been around long enough, surely." I knew he was teasing me, even though he was keeping a straight face.

"Perhaps I shall ask Pam for her advice," he replied, as his grin gave him away. "Alright, if it will help me to get you into bed, then we shall go on a date. What would you like to do?"

I rolled my eyes at Eric's directness, but why should I expect him to be any different. He was never going to be the romantic hero of the novels I loved to read. I needed to rid my mind of any thoughts of that nature. So instead I thought about where I would like to spend some time with him. Eating out didn't seem like a great idea, and I always found the cinema hard work. Dancing, I decided. I just knew he'd be a wonderful dancer, and I loved dancing.

We settled on Sunday night. I didn't have to work and Fangtasia would be closed, so it would be good for both of us.

"I don't like leaving you but I have to go back to Shreveport, Pam will give me hell if I don't attend to Fangtasia business."

I was sure he was exaggerating, although no doubt Pam wouldn't hold back from giving him the sharp edge of her tongue given the chance.

"Is there no-one in Bon Temps who can protect you?" He made it sound as if I were some kind of mediaeval virgin, threatened by a dragon.

"I'll be fine, Eric. For a start you've already said there is no way anyone could know I was at the summit and no reason there should be any connection between Dawn and me. If it makes you feel better though, I'll keep the doors and windows locked, and I know that no vampire can enter unless I invite them in, which I don't plan on doing and they won't be able to glamour me. Besides I've got a shotgun." I must have been nervous as I realised I was babbling.

He didn't look convinced. "I own several apartments in Shreveport. You could stay in one of those. They all have top of the range security. I'll make sure you are supplied with food and all the necessities. You wouldn't need to leave."

I tried to control my reaction and keep calm. "That just sounds like a prison. Besides, how would I work, and pay the bills on this house, we have no idea how long it will be until Dawn's murder is solved, maybe never." He opened his mouth as if to protest, but I held up a hand to silence him. "It will make me feel like some kind of kept woman. It's out of the question."

"I thought that what most women really want is a man to look after them," he looked rather confused, as if he couldn't understand my attitude.

"You obviously know the wrong kind of women. Look I like you Eric, and ….well I'm looking forward to spending some time with you…but you don't need to try to control me," that sounded really lame, but I wasn't sure how to express my feelings. If relationships were this difficult, I was glad I'd kept away from them for so long.

"Would you then consent to a blood exchange before I leave? It will be a brave vampire who makes a move against you, knowing you are under my protection." He sounded a little uncertain; as if he were worried I would slap him down again.

I nodded my agreement. I couldn't see any reason not to. Eric sat back down on the couch and pulled me back against him. He took a few moments to make sure we were both comfortable, which also gave him an excuse for him to slip his hands under the hem of my top and caress my stomach. I loved the feeling of his big cool hands against my skin. I was glad I'd insisted on a date, as I knew in my heart I wasn't going to be able to resist him much longer.

As his hands moved, brushing the underside of my breasts, he feathered delicate kisses along my shoulder and up my neck. I heard the now familiar click of fangs and he bit. I barely had time to savour the sensation before he pulled away.

"Your turn," he said, raising his own wrist to his bloody mouth and biting into it.

I followed his lead and took only a couple of draws on his blood before pulling away. All this time he was kissing and licking my neck which I knew would seal the wounds he had made. Then he turned me in his arms and pulled me into his kiss. That was something I could never get enough of, and I responded enthusiastically. I guess he must like my kissing, as I could feel his arousal building. Reluctantly I pulled away.

"You'd better go," I said, forcing a smile, "it really, wouldn't do to keep Pam waiting, especially now I'm in her bad books."

"Don't worry about Pam. I think she was actually warming to you before your little temper tantrum, I'm sure she'll come round." With that he lifted me off him and was gone.

The days until Sunday passed slowly if mercifully uneventfully. I had to work every night, but no more vampires came into the bar so that settled everyone's nerves. The only person I didn't recognise was a businessman on his way from Jackson to New Orleans. He was friendly and a good tipper, and at the end of the night he insisted on having his photo taken with all the waitresses, but then he tipped us each another fifty, so I wasn't going to complain about that.

Friday lunchtime I caught up with Tara. I felt mean not telling her anything about Eric, so I said I had a date with a Shreveport businessman who I'd met through work. Tara's not too inquisitive so she was happy with that explanation. She offered me my choice of outfits at trade price. Eric's check had arrived in the morning mail and I'd just deposited it in my account so I didn't feel guilty.

We agreed on a nineteen-fifties inspired outfit, a full flared skirt which would spin when I danced to show off my legs, and a white sleeveless blouse with a tie waist, that would reveal just a hint of tanned stomach and as much or as little cleavage as I felt comfortable with. She insisted I should take two sets of underwear, a white lace ensemble to go with my outfit, and a very sexy black lace bra and thong, "for afterwards," she said with a huge wink.

That just left two more nights to get through. I won't deny I was excited. Just going on a date was cause enough, but a date where I could genuinely relax without worrying about keeping my mental shields up, or accidentally revealing my 'gift'. Also, when Eric and I spent time alone together he seemed more open somehow, even if I sometimes had my suspicions about his motives. I might be crazy to think I could have a relationship with a vampire as ancient and powerful as him but at twenty-five this could be my last chance and I was going to give it a shot.

Eric's check had been accompanied by a small parcel which turned out to be a top of the range cell-phone. He'd added a note. 'I _thought you might need one of these. Please keep it with you in case I need to contact you. It has everything you need_.' He'd also, very kindly, written out some basic instructions which it turned out I didn't need as even a child could work out how to operate it.

When I switched it on, the screen had a picture of Eric. He was lying on the chaise longue in his office and he didn't appear to be wearing any clothes. One of the red velvet drapes was just about covering his… um….well you can guess. I wondered if he'd made Pam take it, or used one of those self-timer things. Naturally I was couldn't let anyone else see the phone with that on, so I'd put it straight in my purse.

So when, on Friday night, Arlene said there was a call for me in Sam's office, my heart sank. No-one else knew the number. It had to be Eric, probably cancelling our date because some top-secret sheriff business had come up. I was too busy cursing my bad luck to even check if the office was empty as I approached.

For some reason that I'd never understood, Sam's thoughts had never been that clear to me. I mainly got images, and when I did pick up words they were snarly and confused. I guess that's why when I opened the office door all I heard was something that sounded like 'Grrrr, Sook'. It took me a minute to realise that he was telling me to run. By then it was too late, I'd been seized from behind in a superhuman grip and a cloth was slapped over my face.

The last thing I saw was a black-suited vampire holding a gun to Sam's head. I registered that the look on his face wasn't fear, but pity, and that was my last conscious thought.


	10. Chapter 10

When I came to, I was on a plane. I've never been on a plane before, but as soon as everything came back into focus, I just knew. It wasn't a commercial jet either. I was reclining on a sumptuous leather seat, in a cabin which looked more like the living room of a luxury apartment. Everything was upholstered in butter soft cream leather, matched in luxury by the thick pile carpet on the floor.

As well as me, there were two female flight attendants, who could easily have been supermodels, one black suited vampire, one black suited human who I thought I recognised and, sitting in the seat opposite mine, a very familiar member of vampire royalty.

My head was throbbing and I felt nauseous, no doubt from the aftereffects of the chloroform or whatever it was they had used to knock me out. It made it hard to keep my shields up, so I could tell that the flight attendants were thinking nasty thoughts about me. To be fair, I didn't blame them. They were both tall and blonde, with long slender legs and perfect asses, which were encased in very tight Lycra skirts. The rest of their uniforms consisted of white sleeveless blouses, tied at the waist, but otherwise leaving them with no visible means of support. As they were both very well endowed, this gave anyone who cared to look a generous eyeful. Compared to them I looked distinctly shabby, and when they wondered why on earth I was so important to the King, I had to agree with them.

I glanced at the human, certain I had seen him before and after a couple of seconds it all fell into place. He had been in Merlotte's a couple of days back, the guy who'd had his photo taken with us waitresses. What a pathetic trick to fall for.

King Auguste Cesario was regarding me with an expression which could have been mistaken for concern. "I'm sorry I had to take you by force, my dear, but I didn't think you would come with me willingly."

Darn right, I thought, wondering if he was expecting me to apologise for not being a more grateful captive.

"Did you have something to do with what happened to Dawn?" I already knew the answer, but needed to have it confirmed.

"Dawn who?" Auguste looked blank.

"She was a waitress at Merlotte's, a colleague of mine. They found her body in a Dumpster by the airport perimeter fence a few days back."

"I'm sorry," he said, but he didn't sound sorry, "I didn't realise she was a friend of yours. I'm afraid that when I was trying to track you down, the only information I had was that you were a waitress from the north of the state. My source…" he'd been about to say a name but hesitated, "checked the records of the donors and came up with her name. As soon as I saw the picture I knew it wasn't you, so I told my men to get rid of her. I'm afraid they took me too literally."

He sounded matter of fact about it, and I guess in his line of work that sort of thing happens all the time.

"Does she have any family? I will see that they are recompensed." His insincerity was breath-taking and he could see from my face that I wasn't impressed.

"If you want to blame anyone, blame Sheriff Northman." He continued. "I asked him for your name on the night of the summit, he said it was Morgana Lafeyette. When I could find no record of anyone with that name what alternative did I have?"

I'd often wondered how people like him justified their evil actions to themselves, and now I knew. There was nothing I could do for Dawn though; I needed to think of myself. "You do realise that you can't keep me against my will. I have family, friends, they will come looking for me."

He gave me that pitying smile used when someone doesn't fully understand how much trouble they are in. "Your friends have already received voicemails to tell them that you've been called out of town to visit a long-lost cousin who needs your help."

"But I don't have a cousin…." I stammered, ignoring the more pertinent point of how he managed to send voicemail messages which would fool people into thinking they were from me. Then I remembered Hadley, who as I hadn't thought about her for at least two years, certainly fitted the definition 'long-lost'.

Auguste was nodding encouragingly as he watched the recognition dawn. "As for your boss, Sam Merlotte, I don't think the good people of Bon Temps will take kindly to finding out their favourite bar is run by one of his nature. He will do nothing for fear of exposure."

I had no idea what he was talking about. Was Sam gay? That seemed pretty unlikely. Maybe he had a criminal past; given my suspicions about Auguste that made a lot more sense.

"But Eric…" I blurted out, "I am under his protection." Okay I hadn't actually sealed the deal, even though I really, really wished now that I had.

"Your precious Viking is bound to obey his queen. I'm afraid my dear, that you are part of my deal with the Queen of Louisiana. I insisted that she let me take you in exchange for my investment in her business interests. I'm sorry that it has to be this way, but you will find that I always get what I want, eventually."

I was going round in circles and getting nowhere. One of the flight attendants offered me champagne, but I refused. I needed to keep my wits about me, and besides I'd heard about the date-rape drugs guys used sometimes.

"Perhaps you would like to freshen up, my dear," Auguste offered, indicating a door with a shower symbol in the far corner of the cabin. I got up unsteadily and headed in that direction, hoping that it might clear my head. The shower was huge, half the size of my whole bathroom, and I got the impression it was designed to share. The walls were mirrored and didn't even steam up as I ran the jets of water.

I didn't bother trying to keep my shields up as I lathered myself all over with the designer shower gel. I was too furious with myself for not spotting the 'businessman' as a phony, and for not taking up Eric's offer of his apartment in Shreveport. I'd been so complacent, even after Dawn's death, thinking that really bad things only happened to other people, not to me. My life had always been so mundane, so ordinary. I hadn't recognised that putting myself in the company of vampires had changed everything, and now it was too late.

Most of all I regretted that I hadn't given in to Eric's seduction. I'd thought we had all the time in the world. What a joke, and the joke was on me. As I continued to mentally beat myself up for all the stupid decisions I'd made, I became dimly aware of a woman's voice echoing in my head.

'_Look at her, preening herself, as if she was something special_.' It hit me without warning, clear and nasty.

Then a man's thoughts, _'She'll be a good distraction for him.'_

Shit, poor naïve Sookie strikes again. The shower had a two way mirror, the kind they use in interrogation rooms. No doubt it was light activated and I was now providing a free floor-show to everyone in the cabin.

I turned my back and hurried to wash the shampoo out of my hair, then stepped back into the dressing room to dry myself off.

Clothes had been laid out for me; an exquisite set of underwear, gossamer thin lace and satin, in a delicate shade of cream. A selection of dresses was hanging up, all my size; I chose the most subdued of the gowns in grey wool with a cross-over front and a cinched in waist. It showed more cleavage than I would have liked but at least I looked like a lady, not a whore. I matched it with low-heeled pumps, which were also my size.

When I emerged it was obvious that my little display in the shower had got everyone excited. One of the attendants was sitting on the lap of the vampire, bouncing up and down enthusiastically as he pounded into her. The other was on her knees servicing the king.

The 'businessman' was trying not to watch, but jealousy seeped from every pore. Strangely though, it wasn't the guys he was jealous of, but the women, he wished he were in their shoes.

His physical needs satisfied, Auguste dismissed the woman and leant across to smell me. I'd noticed vampires were big on that, and found the effect quite disconcerting.

"Mmm, much better, I do detest the scent of cheap alcohol and fried food," he said; then looked thoughtful for a moment. "I can smell vampire on you? Is it the Northman?"

"Yes," I shot back defiantly. "I am his." I'd heard someone say that once on one of the vampire reality TV shows that were all the rage now, and it sounded a lot more confident than I felt.

"He hasn't slept with you yet though," Auguste looked smug. "It matters not; eventually you will renounce him and take me as your lover. I am a patient man."

When hell freezes over, I thought, but at least it didn't sound as if he planned to force himself on me just yet.

I'm sorry to say that at that very moment, my stomach started to rumble with hunger, which ruined the effect of my righteous indignation. Auguste beckoned one of the women, who returned with a plate of delicate little canapés. I only knew what they were because I'd served them at a wedding once. People in Bon Temps normally like their meals a lot more substantial. They took the edge off though, and I even risked a glass of champagne.

"Let me introduce you," Auguste said. "Amber, and Honey," he indicated the flight attendants who both gave me smiles of matchless insincerity. "This is Tom, my business manager," he gestured at the human.

"Yes, we've met," I interrupted, shooting him a nasty look.

The king ignored my intervention and continued, "and this," indicating the other vampire in the cabin, "is Alfredo, my right hand man and second in command."

I nodded an acknowledgement, figuring it cost nothing to be polite, and I would do best not to make enemies if it could be avoided. I noticed that both the vampire and the human were handsome enough to be models or movie stars. Auguste clearly chose to surround himself with beautiful people.

"We will be arriving at La Guardia soon," the king said. "I warn you, do not make a scene. Your brother, your friend Miss Thornton and others will suffer the consequences if you try to escape me." His tone of voice and the set of his face convinced me that he wasn't lying.

As we landed, I could see the outline of planes from all over the world out of the window and the lights of the terminal building. We didn't go in that direction though. Our plane came to a halt in a secluded hanger. The king took my arm and guided me down the steps to a black limousine that was waiting at the bottom. Even if I had wanted to try and escape it would have been impossible, there were at least ten bodyguards surrounding the car. Some were vampire, some human, and some had a brain signature that I couldn't recognise – they just radiated aggression.

I saw nothing of New York; the limo had dark tinted windows which blocked out all but the occasional flash of light. We finally pulled up in an underground garage, and took the elevator. The entire interior was mirrored: walls, floor, ceiling and doors. There were no floor numbers and not even an emergency call button. I have no idea how many floors up we travelled but I was sure I'd never been in a building so tall in my entire life.

When the elevator doors opened they revealed an entrance hall which could only be described as palatial. The floor was covered in a checkerboard pattern of black and white tiles, and along the walls was a series of little alcoves, each containing bust of some ancient figure.

"Welcome to my home," Auguste was all politeness, as if I was an honoured guest who had chosen to be there. "While you are here, you may ask for anything you desire, and it shall be yours."

Yeah, anything except my freedom of course. I wondered if all vampires thought women could be bought so easily, but then again, perhaps the ones who chose to associate with them could be.

A distinguished looking, grey-haired, man approached us. He gave the king a respectful nod, and me a kind smile. "Welcome, miss," he said, in an accent that definitely wasn't American.

"Charles, this is Miss Stackhouse, she will be staying with us." I noticed that he didn't say for how long. "Charles is my personal assistant; he manages the household, and is generally invaluable to me." This was addressed to me.

"I have your room ready, miss, I hope everything will be to your satisfaction."

Now he'd spoken again, I was able to place his accent. He was British, in fact he sounded just like Michael Caine, playing Alfred the butler in the Batman movies. I wondered if that was deliberate, if he was just another object in Auguste's collection. He looked kind though, if you can judge these things on appearances.

"I would like to show you around, my dear," Auguste said, "but it is nearly dawn and I must go to my rest. I will see you tonight."

I didn't see where he went, as Charles had already taken my arm and was guiding me in the direction of my room. Naturally it was huge, dominated by a bed which must have been twice as big as mine in Bon Temps. The décor was opulent, all satin and velvet, possibly inspired by an old Joan Crawford movie. Laid out on the bed were satin pyjamas, and a matching robe. As soon as Charles had left me I went to open the curtains, but there was nothing behind them, just a blank wall.

I had an overwhelming desire to throw myself on the bed and cry myself to sleep, but before I gave into that impulse, I decided to check out the room. If there were any hidden cameras or microphones they were hardly likely to be visible, but I turned out all the lights except the Tiffany lamp on the dressing table and sat very still. I thought I glimpsed a flicker of a reflection just above the bed. If there was a camera, that was the obvious place for it to be, if you were a voyeur.

I had no idea what time it was when Charles woke me with a tray of orange juice and croissants. "Your stylist will be here soon," he said, "his majesty would like you to have a suitable wardrobe."

Suitable for what, I wondered, but I didn't have much time to think about it. Charles returned a few minutes later with a woman in tow. She was stick-thin, so that her head looked completely out of proportion with her body. As she looked me up and down I could tell that she was thinking I was too fat, and could do with losing at least twenty pounds.

She took my measurements, and asked me about my favourite designers – I had to plead ignorance on that one – and which movie stars I admired. I could not have cared less, she could dress me in a burlap sack, but I knew that I would have no choice in the matter and I tried to think of women whose dress sense was tasteful: Grace Kelly, Audrey Hepburn. At least I might have a chance of retaining a shred of respectability. She'd brought a small selection of clothes with her and I settled on a simple silk shift dress.

I was getting claustrophobic in the windowless bedroom and as soon as Rachel had left, I set off in search of Charles. In the course of my search I discovered a home cinema room with a giant screen and what I guessed was state of the art hi-fi. Another room housed a library of leather bound books on shelves which covered every wall from floor to ceiling. Displayed on a coffee table were '_The Prince_' by Machiavelli, and '_The Art of War'_ by Sun Tzu They weren't books I'd ever read, being more of a romance and murder mystery girl myself but I had heard of them. I guessed they were probably essential for every vampire's library and wondered if Eric had copies. Maybe I should try and read them, as I was likely to have plenty of time on my hands, I thought bitterly.

I was rattling another door which wouldn't open when Charles appeared at my shoulder. Although he was human, he seemed to have perfected the vampire art of gliding up on you silently.

"That door is locked while his majesty is at his rest, it will be open at first dark."

His accent made me smile. "Do you always call Auguste 'your majesty'," I asked him.

"Oh yes, miss. You see before I joined him I used to work at Buckingham Palace, so it comes naturally."

The faint noise of the elevator motor interrupted our conversation. Night must have fallen, as Auguste stepped out, accompanied by Alfredo.

"Good evening my dear," he took my hand and kissed it, "may I say how lovely you look. Doesn't she look lovely, Alfredo?" The other vampire nodded, but I could tell he wasn't convinced.

I'd already decided that I wasn't going to antagonise him or answer back, and besides I'm the queen of the fake smile, so I plastered one on – not too big though, I didn't want to offer him any more encouragement than was absolutely necessary. I was certain that sooner or later he would get tired of waiting and force his attentions on me. I wanted to put that night off for as long as possible.

It turned out the locked room could only be opened by Auguste's handprint on an electronic reader. The room was spectacular. One wall was dominated by a painting of sunflowers in a vase, and another by a giant portrait in the style of Andy Warhol – even I could recognise that. It could have been Marlon Brando, but then again it could have been Auguste himself. Most striking of all though, were the giant glass picture doors which revealed the whole skyline of the city.

As I approached, the doors slid open to reveal a terrace. I looked back at Auguste, silently asking for permission, and when he nodded, I stepped out into the night air. I breathed in deeply, not caring that it was tainted by traffic fumes. For a few brief seconds I felt free. Then Auguste was beside me, his arm draped possessively around my shoulder. He pointed out some of the landmarks; the Empire State Building, the trees of Central Park way down below, the gap in the skyline where the Twin Towers had been. Then, feeling me shiver with cold, he guided me back inside and the unseen hand closed the doors.

Charles had served champagne and canapés. Auguste obviously thought this was the normal human diet - maybe he went to too many receptions - but I was hungry enough to eat anything. I looked at Charles before I took a glass of champagne, trying to get a clue as to whether it had been spiked, but he was just wondering if I would appreciate it, with it being one of the finest bottles from his master's cellar. I took that as a sign that it was safe and let him pour me a glass.

The two vampires were sitting in a corner talking in hushed voices, so I had another glass, then a third. By the time Alfredo got up to leave I was quite tipsy, and maybe that was what made me reckless. "So what is your deal with the Queen of Louisiana?" I asked, even though vampire politics was really none of my business.

The king seemed happy to humour me. "You probably know that New Orleans is the most important city in the US for the vampire community, it has immense significance as the place where we first entered the country."

I nodded. You'd have to have spent the past few years in a cave not to know that the Big Easy was also known as Vampire Central nowadays.

"Sophie Anne Leclerq was one of the first of our kind to reach the new world. It is said she arrived with the first French settlers in the late seventeenth century. Other vampires are richer and stronger than her, but she maintains her position because of her longevity. However I do not believe she has ever fully exploited her assets, and her position has not recovered from the setback of Katrina. She is threatened with attack by some of her neighbouring monarchs and needs an ally who is strong enough to protect her."

The fact that he was confident in telling me all this did not make me feel good, quite the contrary. It reminded me of that classic scene in a movie where the villain takes time out to explain the details of his dastardly plan, safe in the knowledge that no-one can stop him. I didn't even have to ask Auguste what was in it for him, he was being uncharacteristically open, for a vampire. Perhaps he thought I would be impressed by his cunning.

"There is certainly potential in for development in New Orleans, but more importantly it gives me a foothold in the South. I can expand my interests without having to reveal myself. If and when Sophie-Anne's neighbours decide to challenge her, they will find out that they have taken on much more than they expected."

He fell silent for a while, obviously deciding he had shared enough top-secret vampire stuff with me.

"So is Eric Northman stronger than Sophie-Anne?" I just needed to say his name, but Auguste didn't seem to react.

"Yes, the Viking is older than she, and much stronger, but he is not a king. People say he is too impulsive, too ready for a fight, and unwilling to follow the rules which that position demands. There is no doubt that he is a great warrior though, it pains me that I was not able to come to an agreement with him and to take you with his approval."

He had moved to sit next to me now, with his arm around my shoulder, softly stroking the bare skin of my arms.

"Now, my dear, it is my turn for refreshment."

I tensed up involuntarily, remembering what had happened last time he had fed from me.

"Don't worry, you have nothing to fear, I am prepared for your sweetness. I hope you will permit me not to glamour you, it does spoil the experience."

It was a relief that he hadn't realised I couldn't be glamoured, that would have set off all sorts of awkward questions. I let him pull me close against his chest. He slipped his arms around my chest and began to fondle my breasts through the thin silk of my dress. Then he bit and I gasped in shock.

To my relief he pulled away after only a few moments. I tried to blot out the physical pain by thinking about Eric. He'd be furious when he called at my house on Sunday and I wasn't there. He'd probably ring the cell-phone he'd given me and it would sit in my purse in Sam's office chirping away uselessly. Of course it was always possible he knew that something had happened to me, he may have felt it, or his queen might have told him how she had traded me in like a second hand car.

The point was, none of those things mattered. He was a sheriff; Auguste was a king, and a very powerful one. I didn't know much about the vampire world but it was very clear that position, status, and above all power was everything.

Auguste had said that he was a patient man; well I would show him that I could be patient too. I would watch, and wait, and learn.


	11. Chapter 11

It came as a surprise to me how quickly I settled into a new routine. I guess it's like any prison, when you've got no choice you adapt. It's an act of self-preservation. Every day the human household would rise a few hours before our master. Tom Hagen would arrive and squirrel himself away in Auguste's private office to deal with what were, no doubt, top secret business affairs. Cleaners would come and go; Charles would prepare the day's newspapers. He actually ironed them, just like the butler in '_Upstairs Downstairs'_.

For the first week, Rachel came every afternoon with new clothes for me, but I soon got fed up with her nasty thoughts about the extra pounds I was carrying. It was when she noted disapprovingly that I had just a hint of a frown line developing and I should really have regular botox treatment that I snapped.

"If you want a Barbie Doll to dress, I suggest you go to Macy's and buy one," I said nastily.

'_Ungrateful bitch_,' she thought, but said nothing, just picked up her enormous handbag and stormed out.

With no clocks or watches, the only set point of the day was when the elevator motor would whirr into action and Auguste would emerge from his daytime rest. Sometimes Alfredo would accompany him. I guessed they must have some kind of bunker deep underground. I imagined them in matching coffins side by side. They weren't always together though, so Alfredo must have had a resting place of his own as well.

The king only fed on me once or twice a week, for which I was grateful. Maybe he fed on other women on the nights he went out, or maybe vampires don't need to eat as often as humans do. The loss of blood left me weak, even though Charles would make sure to feed me up with steak and spinach and other iron-rich foods.

To my surprise, Auguste made no move to force me to have sex with him. Instead he satisfied his needs with a succession of mystery women. Many evenings I'd hear the distinctive clack of their stiletto heels across the marble tiles of the hall and Auguste would disappear for an hour or so. Charles was officially under orders not to tell me who the visitors were, but from time to time he'd let a name slip: a supermodel, an actress, a pop star. It wasn't hard to imagine what they saw in him; he was handsome and very rich, and if you didn't look too closely beneath the surface he must seem quite perfect. Occasionally I would pick up a stray thought, if the woman was a strong broadcaster. It seemed he was very good in bed as well. Shame I knew too much about what he was really like.

All these things just got me confused. It was impossible to guess the king's true intentions towards me. Perhaps he thought I would get so jealous I would beg him to have sex with me. Or maybe it was just to show how powerful and desirable he was, so that when the moment finally came, I would be grateful to him. The effect was a kind of torture though; my first waking thought, every afternoon, was whether this would be the night when I would be the one to be summoned to the master bedroom.

Charles was my lifeline. He was estranged from his own family, who couldn't understand why he would leave the employment of the British Royals to come work for a Vampire – a five-fold raise in salary being rather less important to them than it was to him. He had two daughters and five grandchildren and I could tell he missed them real bad. He would show me photos and tell me stories about them. I could talk to him about my family and friends in Bon Temps and that helped keep them real in my heart.

It was Charles who explained that Auguste had been obsessed with me since his return from Louisiana, and apparently it was all Eric's fault.

"The thing is, Miss," he told me one day, "in his human life, when he ruled in Sicily, his majesty's fortress was nearly destroyed one night by a group of mercenaries led by a Scandinavian known as 'Erik Bloodaxe'. These monsters had the city at their mercy, but then, with the dawn, they melted away and the people were saved. It was the worst crisis of his rule and he has not forgotten or forgiven, even all these centuries later as a vampire. Once he found out that you were important to this Eric Northman, he just had to have you, he needed no other reason."

That was great, I thought, Sicilians were after all notorious for their blood feuds and now I knew the King had the mother of all feuds going on with Eric. The crazy thing was that Eric probably had no idea that he was responsible for my plight. I vaguely remembered him mentioning that he had met Auguste when the king was still human, but he never said anything about the raping and pillaging – had he forgotten, or just failed to share this crucial detail?

I alternated between apprehension and boredom. On the nights when Auguste didn't go out, he would disappear for several hours of vampire business with Tom and Alfredo. This took place in another locked room which I wasn't allowed to enter. So I got to watch a lot of TV, and read, and try to think of ways of escaping from a windowless prison with no exit door. That last one had me pretty much stumped.

After a few weeks, Auguste started to notice the change in me. I wasn't eating much, and with the total absence of sunlight in my life, I was really pale, which doesn't suit me, and all in all I was beginning to look quite vampiric. If I went on like this I'd end up with Rachel's perfect figure.

Typical man, typical vampire, or maybe both, he tried to solve the problem with money, buying me fancy jewellery and designer handbags. I tried to explain that this wasn't what I wanted. I needed some useful purpose in life; even delivering beer to the thirsty in Bon Temps had been better than doing nothing.

He must have taken that to heart, as he started to spend more time with me, leaving Alfredo and Tom to take responsibility for most of his business affairs. Instead of spending hours closeted away, Tom would bring him a pile of papers to sign each evening. He'd skim through them, ask a few questions, then wave the man away and turn his attention back to me.

He even offered to take me out, but naturally there was a catch.

"Please don't think I enjoy keeping you locked away like this," he explained. "I would love nothing more than to show you off as my permanent companion. The choice is entirely yours."

How typical to blame the victim.

"I'm not ready, you'll need to give me time." My reply sounded like something out of a cheap romance novel, but it was one he obviously hadn't read as he seemed to accept it and changed the subject.

"Do you think I can trust Tom Hagen?" he asked, completely out of the blue.

That put me in a dilemma. The thing was that I knew poor Tom was smitten with Alfredo. I had picked up from his thoughts that his dearest wish was to be turned and to become the vampire's child. I also knew that he would do anything that was asked of him in pursuit of this ambition. I guess I was starting to think like a vampire, because I knew that was a weakness which I might be able to exploit. Worse still I didn't feel even a little bit guilty about it. Tom had been involved in Dawn's murder after all, and my kidnapping, so I didn't exactly have kind feelings for him.

I was storing up this information like an extra special present I wanted to save, ready to unwrap when the time was right.

"Why do you ask?" that seemed to be the safest response.

"I can't quite put my finger on it, he is hard working and appears to be loyal, but there is something that doesn't feel right."

I realised this was an opportunity I couldn't miss. "Perhaps if you let me sit in on a meeting, I could watch him and let you know what I think. I'm a good judge of character you know; being a waitress I have to be – knowing who'll be a good tipper, and who'll try to run out without paying." I was rambling now, but I hoped it sounded convincing.

Auguste looked doubtful, as if a mere human female could know anything which he didn't, but I could almost see the wheels turning as he considered the plan. Finally he spoke. "I see no harm in it, but you must be silent and respectful. Above all do not dare to challenge my authority or that of Alfredo or you will be punished."

Naturally I had no intention of doing anything of the sort. Watch and wait had become my motto now: watch, wait and pray.

Official business took place in the Boardroom. This was decorated in the grand style of a European renaissance palace – I knew that because of a documentary I'd seen once about the Palace of Versailles in Paris, France. It seemed that every room in the apartment had a different designer, giving a strangely schizophrenic effect. Money and possessions trumped taste every time as far as Auguste was concerned. The intention of this room was to impress, but also to intimidate. On one wall a scene from ancient mythology depicted a partially clothed woman, surrounded by soldiers, impaled on a spear. Another painting featured a naked woman was holding a snake to her breast with the blood from its bite running down. I was picking up a theme here and it wasn't exactly female-friendly.

Two large swords were mounted over the fireplace. In the corner was a suit of armour which, I later discovered, had belonged to King Henry VIII of England – he was the one who went through wives almost as fast as my brother Jason went through girlfriends. Maybe that was intended as some kind of warning too.

Alfredo and Tom took their places either side of Auguste at the head of the table. I chose to sit next to Tom. He was a weak broadcaster, but if I was close enough I could dip into his mind to see if I could find out anything that would be useful to me later.

Once we were settled a young black man was brought in. He was trying to look defiant, but I could tell he was terrified. Tom didn't look too happy either. He was wondering why he hadn't been warned about this. I picked up a name from his thoughts: Tyrone Edwards.

Auguste consulted the papers in front of him, as if he were the judge on a cable TV show. "So Mr Edwards, I appointed you as my main distributer for the lower East Side," he paused, waiting for acknowledgement.

"Sure thing, man," the kid replied. I couldn't help but think of him as a kid, he looked so fresh-faced and quite out of his depth in this company. I wasn't quite sure he realised just how much trouble he was in.

"Your business plan contained some very impressive figures," Auguste continued, but the kid just shrugged.

"And yet your second quarter returns show that sales and profits have dropped off almost entirely." He was beginning to sound menacing now and the atmosphere in the room grew tense.

"Listen bro, I've only been following your orders, I've done everything you told me." I listened in to his thoughts only to find total confusion. '_He told me to pull out, leave the territory to the Crawford Crew, I'm sure he did_.' He was searching his memories, trying to work out if he had misunderstood the instructions he'd received. '_I should never have deleted that fucking e-mail'_.

Meanwhile Auguste had risen from his seat and was advancing slowly towards the far end of the table where poor Tyrone sat. He seemed to tower over the young man, but that was just the energy of his anger radiating out from him like a heat shimmer. Reaching out, he grasped him by the throat and lifted him with one arm until his feet were dangling above the floor.

"I am not your _bro_," the king said, a voice so low it could barely be heard. "And I am not a fool; please do not make the mistake of treating me like one." With that he released his grip and Tyrone fell back hard into his chair.

"What do you think?" Auguste asked Alfredo when he had returned to his seat at the head of the table.

"He's lying; someone must have bribed him to pull out." Alfredo sounded smooth and convincing, but his reply was too pat.

I tuned into Tom, and nearly gave myself away when I picked up his thoughts: '_Dumb n****r, didn't even keep a record, thank God_. _We should have got rid of him_.' I didn't have him marked down as a racist, but it seemed that was just another thing to add to his list of faults.

"What do you think, Sookie?" I'd been so focussed on keeping a straight face that I wasn't prepared for Auguste's question.

"Can you tell me something about the background?" I asked trying to buy myself some time.

"Mr Edwards here was awarded the licence to distribute…" he paused very briefly, considering his words.

"Product," Alfredo and Tom both jumped in at the same moment.

"Yes, product," the king continued, "for the whole East New York neighbourhood. I had high hopes of him; I had heard he was an excellent salesman. So you can imagine my surprise when I find out that the Crawford Crew have taken possession of the whole area."

"What happened?" I asked the young man, giving him what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

"It's just like I said, Ma'am. Around a month ago I got an e-mail saying the instructions had changed, I was to pull out and let the Crawford Crew have the area." He didn't quite look me in the eye, but it's a myth that is an indication of guilt. Some of the best liars I knew could keep eye contact while stealing the chair from under your ass.

I looked at Auguste and gave him what I hoped was a meaningful look.

"Take him outside," he ordered the vampire guard, who stood by the door in regulation black suit and shades.

"I think he's telling the truth, what does he have to gain by lying?" I looked at Alfredo, then Tom as I spoke; my challenge was after all mainly directed at them.

"Who knows, humans aren't exactly logical," Alfredo really knew how to wind me up, but I forced myself not to react to his insult.

"I think you'll find that when it comes to making money, human instincts are pretty much the same as vampire ones," I shot back. That raised a smile from Auguste.

"I think she is right, he has no reason to lie. Tom, please investigate how he came to receive the wrong instructions and report back to me. In the meantime, please reinstate him into the network, but with a smaller territory. I will give him a second chance to prove his loyalty."

He never got that chance though. A couple of days later I noticed a tiny paragraph on page 13 of the city paper. A man called Tyrone Edwards had fallen in front of a subway train. No-one had witnessed whether he had jumped or been pushed.

After that drama, the next few sessions that I was allowed to sit in on turned out to be interminably boring. The city that never sleeps is the perfect location for vampires so the population is both large and well-established. Vampires have very long memories and they sure know how to bear a grudge, so a petty dispute over an incident hundreds of years old could flare up at any time.

I amused myself by trying to guess who was telling the truth from their body language. At first sight vampires are real hard to read. They don't fidget like humans do and have near perfect control over their facial expressions. When you get to know them, though, there are tiny giveaway signs. I could tell when Auguste was getting angry, for example, because he would pull on the little finger of his left hand. Once he started doing that, an eruption of at least seven on the Richter scale was bound to follow.

Alfredo was much harder to read, and he was the one I really wanted to know about. In the end I had no alternative but to ask Auguste. "You and Alfredo seem real close?"

"We are brothers," he replied, with a grave expression.

That didn't mean a lot, most vampires call each other sister and brother, particularly if they live together. I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"He really was my brother, in my human life. He was my elder, by a year. We have the same father but his mother was a serving girl and mine was the queen. That never mattered though. We lived together, died together, became vampire together."

I wondered what Alfredo would say if I'd asked him the same question. The illegitimate elder brother, forced always to play second fiddle. It was right out of the plot for a drama on HBO, at the very least.

Most nights, after the formal business was concluded, we would sit together and watch TV. I'd gotten myself to the point where I could let Auguste put his arms around me without flinching too much. He liked to watch the news and comment shows for a while, then he'd let me have my choice.

This evening we'd only just started watching '_The Daily Show_' when Charles knocked on the door.

"You have visitors, sir," he said.

Auguste looked first puzzled then angry. "I have finished with my business affairs for the night; tell them to come back tomorrow."

"I think you will want to meet with this delegation," Charles continued, giving nothing away.

Auguste apologised and got up to leave. I waited till he was out of the room, then followed, propping the door open in case I needed to make a quick return.

The door of the Boardroom was slightly ajar and I recognised the imperious female voice. As I peeked around the door, I saw a very familiar face.

"I need to renegotiate the terms of our agreement, Auguste. It appears I have been misled, Sheriff Northman has given me some new information, and I wish to take the girl back." Sophie-Anne didn't sound like the kind of woman who was used to being contradicted, but I knew that the king wouldn't give in that easily. In fact Sophie-Anne's interest was likely to make him even more determined to hang on to me; it was completely the wrong approach to use.

Sure enough his response was dismissive. "Miss Stackhouse is part of our deal. Unless you wish to tear up our agreement, she stays here. Besides, we have been getting on very well indeed." I couldn't see him clearly, but I had no doubt he was addressing that last remark to Eric, hoping to rile him.

Sophie Anne's two medieval body guards were exchanging menacing stares with the king's twenty-first century security men. Eric stood at the back of the room, looking straight ahead, giving no sign that he'd seen me.

"I really must insist," she said, and I could swear she actually stamped her foot.

I could see that Auguste was doing that thing with his little finger and I wished there was a way to warn Sophie-Anne that she had gone too far, but it was too late. His volcanic temper was ready to erupt. In a movement that caught everyone by surprise, he grabbed one of the long-swords from the wall and sliced off her head.

Blood spurted everywhere. I couldn't believe that so much blood could come from one body; it gushed like a fountain out of her neck. Meanwhile her sightless head rolled around the floor, collapsing in on itself like a balloon which had been pricked. I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle a scream, but it was impossible to tear my eyes away from the ghastly sight as her body dissolved into a pile on gunk on the floor.

I didn't see what happened after that. Eric had crossed the room faster than the human eye could follow, and I had barely registered what was happening when he had me in his arms. He carried me across the lobby and, as if by instinct, through the open door opposite. Then we were out onto the terrace before I could draw another breath.

He held me tighter still and jumped. I closed my eyes and screamed. 'Oh shit' was the only coherent thought I could form as we tumbled to our deaths.


	12. Chapter 12

After what seemed like an eternity of sheer terror, I realised we were not falling, but flying. That reduced my fear, but only a little, and I clung on as tightly as I could, burying my face in Eric's broad chest.

The feel of the air rushing past my ears subsided and I could tell that we had come to a stop. It was bitterly cold so I knew we must be somewhere high up. Very slowly I raised my head to try to identify our landing spot. I didn't know New York well enough to recognise the place; just that we were on the rooftop terrace of a really tall building.

"Do you maybe think we're a bit exposed up here," I could barely get the words out my teeth were chattering so badly.

"Most people pay twenty dollars for the privilege of this view, but I see your point. Hold tight," Eric ordered, and we were off again into the night. I just hoped we hadn't shown up on anyone's radar.

This time we landed in a deserted backstreet. Eric held me at arms' length, examining me carefully. His nose twitched a couple of times – I had a pretty good idea what that was all about.

"You look pale," he commented, "and thin. I do not like to see you like this."

"Yeah, well, you know what, I don't much like being this way, but I haven't seen the sunlight for weeks." I didn't meant to snap at him, but I was still in shock from everything that had just happened. Also, I was dressed only in satin lounging pyjamas which really weren't designed as street wear.

"I thought you'd be pleased to see me," Eric looked hurt, an expression which was quite incongruous on his handsome face.

"I am pleased to see you." I was delighted to be free and out on the streets, and I admit I was pleased that Eric had come after me. Would he have done it if he had realised what the consequences would be? I couldn't be sure that he cared that much about me.

It wasn't just the cold that was making me uncomfortable though. We had something much more serious to worry about.

"What do you think happened after we escaped?" I asked him.

"It is possible that Sigebert and Wyebert killed the king," Eric didn't look convinced though, even as he spoke. "They are powerful warriors and completely devoted to their queen… but then Auguste had the advantage of surprise."

He was also the one with the giant sword in his hand. "So let's assume the Queen and her guards are all dead, Auguste is hardly going to 'fess up to having killed them, is he?" I looked at Eric, and he looked back at me, the same thought occurring to us both at the same time.

"I'd better call Pam," He said. I had been just about to say the same thing; but his sharper reflexes beat me to it.

As it turned out he didn't need to make the call, as his cell started to vibrate in his pocket. When he answered I could hear Pam shrieking. I'd never heard her raise her voice before, so she must have been real angry, or upset, or maybe both.

"_Eric, what the fuck have you done? They're saying you've murdered the Queen_."

"I can assure you it is a lie, but I may need to go underground for a while. Close Fangtasia, go to ground somewhere safe, and get the message out to all the Area Five vampires to do the same. Don't call me again. I will contact you when it is safe to do so." He snapped the phone shut.

"This way," he continued, grabbing my hand.

"If the King has put the blame on you, he's going to have people looking for you." I started to scan the area mentally for the distinctive trace of vampire brain-patterns.

"We have many hiding places in New York; it will take time to search them all."

As we emerged from the alley, a car drew up against the sidewalk opposite. It had no driver, or at least no human driver. I waited a few seconds until the door opened, then pointed it out to Eric. "Look, vampires."

He followed my gaze, then looked back at me suspiciously. "How do you know that, Sookie?"

"You'all have a kind of a glow to your skin, it's very distinctive. Don't you see it?"

"Yes, but humans normally don't…...no matter, you are right about them."

We both watched in silence as they approached what looked like the entrance to an old subway station, although it was barely recognisable as the old metal gates were rusted and overgrown with weeds.

It took them no more than five minutes to force their way in, conduct what was obviously a fruitless search and leave again, taking care to leave the gates looking as they'd found them. We both figured that we'd be safe. If they were the king's men, they'd be unlikely to come back, not tonight at least. As soon as the car was safely away, we crossed the road to the same spot.

Eric wrenched the gates apart with one hand, using the other to push me through. It was dark, and damp underfoot, as I heard the clang of the gates behind me. His powerful eyesight could cut through the gloom but I didn't have that advantage and I stumbled several times on the uneven surface. Eventually Eric took pity on me and swept me up into his arms.

Two tramps were sitting up against the wall. At first glance it appeared they were asleep or in a drunken stupor, but their heads were set at an awkward angle which made it clear they were dead. They must have found another way into the shelter, so we would have to be careful.

Eric led me along the disused platform until we reached a metal door set back into the wall. The handle was wiped clean; the King's heavies had obviously searched inside.

"It may be a little musty," he explained, "I don't think it has been used for years. It was one of our secret meeting places in the time before the Revelation."

It turned out he was wrong, and there was evidence that the place had been used much more recently. In fact it looked as if a particularly wild party had been taking place. A long dining table was covered with a red velvet cloth and huge metal candle sticks, which dripped cream wax in rivulets. Empty bottles of champagne and True Blood lay scattered around. Whoever had decorated the room seemed to have based it on a nineteenth century New Orleans whorehouse, maybe they'd really owned a whorehouse and that was how they knew.

"Some vampires like to relive the old days," Eric explained, shaking his head to indicate how pathetic he found it. "We should be safe here tonight. I will need to take my daytime rest; tomorrow night we can leave for safety."

Safety; where would we ever find safety? The tentacles of Auguste's business empire stretched out all over the country. Even if he were dead, his brother Alfredo would pick up the reigns and would no doubt be delighted to take his revenge on Eric. I didn't think he was too keen on me, either.

I really didn't want to think about it. All I wanted at that moment was something that would make the world go away, make all my troubles disappear, if only for an hour or two. There was one thing I could think of that I was pretty certain would achieve that. It was completely inappropriate, reckless even, but a plan was developing in my mind which made it even more important to me.

Eric was prowling around the room, checking behind curtains as if some assassin might be lurking. He took a heavy wooden chair and wedged it against the door.

I still had lots of questions I wanted to ask him, but my need for answers was warring with my need for comfort. I chose a large, richly upholstered couch to sit on, leaving him plenty of room to sit down next to me if he wanted. He didn't need much of an invitation. As soon as he was satisfied that the room was secure he leapt into position beside me.

"I missed you, Sookie. I was very much looking forward to our date."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"That was easy. Your boss, the shifter, informed me that vampires were responsible for your disappearance. He tracked your scent to the airport. It was easy to access the flight records and find out whose private jet had taken off that evening, and where it was headed."

"I'm sorry Eric, but did you just call Sam Merlotte a shifter?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh," Eric replied, realising that he'd let something slip which he shouldn't have. "Of course, you don't know. Sam Merlotte is a shape-shifter. He can transform into any animal at will, but he prefers the form of a dog."

That was just plain weird. I'd had no idea that my boss hid such a secret, but maybe it explained why his thoughts were always half hidden from me. That was what Auguste had threatened to expose, I realised. No wonder Sam hadn't made a move to help me. I'm not saying people in Bon Temps are bigoted – well apart from Maxine Fortenberry and her friends – but there's a lot of people wouldn't take kindly to having their liquor served by a half man-half beast.

Strangely though, that revelation seemed insignificant compared with the question which had been nagging away at me for the past couple of hours.

"How did you persuade the Queen to ask for my return, after all it was she who traded me to Auguste as part of their deal?" It must have been something real important to change her mind, and ultimately lead to her final death.

Eric shrugged, "I told her that if she wanted me to stay as her Sheriff, she would have to get you back."

I wasn't convinced, "I thought the New York deal was real important to her, why would she risk it for you."

He pulled that hurt face again, upset that I would challenge his explanation. "I am her most powerful Sheriff, and a great warrior. She knows that if ever she is threatened by another monarch she will need my loyalty."

It sounded plausible, but still feeble. I let silence hang in the air, and eventually Eric continued.

"Besides, I told her that I intended to challenge Auguste with or without her help."

I still wasn't convinced but the set of his face made it clear that I was getting no further explanation. No doubt it was some complication of the devious world of vampire politics, which I probably wouldn't understand even if he told me.

Also, he'd shifted positions on the couch so I was lying in his arms and he had his hands under the hem of my top and was running his hands over my back, that got my attention off the subject quickly enough.

"I think we have talked enough, don't you?" he asked in a voice so dark and seductive it made me shiver. "I can think of a better way to spend our time."

Well so could I, and to prove it I mirrored his actions, loosening his black t-shirt from his pants so that I could explore the muscles of his chest and back.

He put a hand against my shoulder and pushed me up so he could examine my face. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I nodded slowly.

"Really sure?" he repeated, although he was already undoing the buttons on my top with his free hand.

I didn't reply, but reached for his t-shirt and pushed it all the way up. He lifted his arms so I could pull it over his head. Then he had my top off in no time, followed by my lace bra. Slowly he lowered his head and flicked his tongue first over one nipple, then the other. I made a little noise of pleasure deep in my throat and that encouraged him to explore further. I could have happily stayed like that for hours. His hands and his mouth were very talented and he had me wriggling and whimpering with desire.

It wasn't enough for him though; he turned me so I was lying on my back and stripped off my pants and panties in a fluid movement. He gently pushed my legs apart and transferred his attentions lower down my body, showing me just how talented he could be down there as well.

I was ready to beg for him to take me when he slipped first one then two fingers inside me, moving with agonising slowness, testing my readiness. I was sure I was ready, sure as I would ever be about anything. I ached for the feel of him.

He pulled away and I moaned in frustration, but it was only to free himself of the encumbrance of his jeans and boots. I think my eyes must have been like saucers when I finally saw him naked. I'd seen Auguste, who was by no means a small man, but Eric was huge. I swallowed hard, there was no way I could take all of that.

He must have guessed what I was thinking. He probably got this reaction all the time, I thought, with just the tiniest hint of jealousy.

"Don't worry, lover, just relax for me. Everything is going to be perfect."

The way he said _lover_ set off all those shivers inside me once again. I took in a breath, lay back and closed my eyes.

"Open your eyes," Eric said, "I want you to watch me."

So I did, I lifted my head just a fraction off the couch so I could see him ease himself into position. I gasped as he guided himself inside me. He paused and lowered his face towards mine. As we kissed I could feel him moving, there was a brief stab of pain but it soon passed. He increased the rhythm of his movements and all I could think of was having him deeper inside me, I wanted him to fill me, claim me, I wanted it to last forever. I hooked my legs up around his waist and heard him moaning my name.

The room seemed to disappear, all that I could feel were the senstations, his cool body rubbing against my warm one, hard muscle against soft flesh. Then my own excitement began to overwhelm me and I couldn't think of anything anymore. I was straining for something just out of reach, the feeling building inside me, faster, more powerful until it crashed over my body as a wave of indescribable pleasure.

I was still shuddering with the force of it all when I felt Eric reach the same completion with one last powerful thrust. He held me very tight for a few moments, then slowly withdrew, wrapping a velvet throw around us both.

As we lay together in post-coital bliss, the questions which had been bugging me all night came back to the fore; not least the small matter of how he could have neglected to mention his centuries old blood feud with Auguste. I opened my mouth to speak, but Eric stroked a finger over my lips to silence me, then replaced his finger with his lips. Okey-dokey, my questions could wait.

Then he was stroking my stomach, and trailing kisses up my arm and across my shoulders, I could tell that he was ready again.

"I'm a little sore," I whispered, feeling awkward at the admission.

Eric just smiled, "I think I may have the cure for that," he said, settling me back down and sliding down my body, kissing me all the way.

It turned out he was right, a few minutes of his attentions and the pain melted away. It was replaced by an ache which was already familiar to me, I wanted to feel him back inside me again. I guess he must have been able to sense it, as he looked up with a broad grin, and began the return journey kissing my stomach and my breasts as he moved back up my body.

I let him turn me in his arms and sat in his lap, legs hooked around his waist, lowering myself down to take him. It turned out I was still a little sore, but I so loved the feeling of having him inside me that I didn't care. I moved slowly to savour the experience. He seemed to enjoy that as his eyes closed briefly and he growled deep in his throat.

I accentuated the movement, rising up slowly till only the tip of him was still inside me, then slamming down hard. His big hands gripped my ass, and he took control of the movement, adjusting the angle to create a delicious friction. It was my turn to moan as I could feel my climax building. Then, just as I was about to come, he flipped me over and thrust so hard that I lost all self-control. I screamed out his name, grateful that we were deep underground and no-one would hear.

I think he lost control at the same time, as he bit into my neck and drew heavily two or three times, before pulling away.

"Worth waiting for?" he asked, looking smug, a tiny trail of blood running down his chin.

I didn't answer immediately, I was going to have to tell him what I intended to do, and he wasn't going to like it. I just let him hold me and stroke my hair, for a few minutes I wanted to be happy.

The fateful words couldn't be put off for ever though. "You can't really believe that the king will let us just walk away, knowing what we know?" My new lover must surely have considered the consequence of tonight's drama. The question seemed to drive away all the heat of passion which filled the room, the temperature dropped to below chilled.

"Pam could have been wrong, he might be dead." Eric sounded as hopeful as a small boy on his birthday, presents all opened but convinced that another one might be waiting for him, hidden from view.

"If he was dead, he wouldn't have sent his vampires out to search the secret hiding places." I'd never expected that it would be me who would be the realist out of the two of us. I'd always prided myself on having a sunny, optimistic disposition, despite the challenges I'd faced in my life. A few weeks in captivity had changed that, maybe for ever.

"You are probably right, I'm afraid. You have the instincts of a vampire, my lover."

"I'm a quick study, believe me." I tried not to let the despair I was feeling creep into my voice, but that just wasn't possible. "So where does this leave us?"

"We will need to go into hiding," he admitted, sounding unhappy at the prospect.

I couldn't bring myself to ask him how long we would need to hide for. Auguste had carried his grudge against Eric four hundred years, waiting for the opportunity to strike back. I just didn't have that long.

"My life is too short to spend it on the run, always looking over my shoulder, wondering if each day will be my last. I can't do it, Eric, I'm sorry but I just can't."

"I don't think we have any alternative," he replied.

There's always an alternative. Gran had taught me that we to take responsibility for our own lives, make our own decisions. I'd made mine, but Eric surely wasn't going to like it.

"I have to go back." I said it as loudly and firmly as I could, needing to convince myself as much as him that it was the right thing to do.

"Sookie, you cannot be serious, do you really want to return to Auguste after everything he has done?"

"Of course I don't _want_ to, Eric." I was annoyed that he could even think such a thing. "But in return I will insist that he exonerates you of the murder of Sophie-Anne."

Eric looked uncharacteristically puzzled. He was on the back foot and he didn't like it. "Why would he do that for you, Sookie, and how will he explain the change in his version of events?"

I didn't bother answering the first part of the question, but as for the second part I could respond: "Things like that happen all the time, people review the evidence, realise they got it wrong. Auguste is creative; he'll come up with a convincing explanation."

Eric opened his mouth to protest again, but I held up a hand to silence him. I didn't want to hear his arguments; it would be far too easy to agree with him. I didn't exactly like my course of action, but I couldn't see any other way. I continued my explanation, "I know Auguste has weaknesses, if he thinks he can trust me he will reveal more of himself. Eventually I will find a way to make sure I am forever free from him." How long that might take was another matter altogether.

"What if he hurts you?" The concern was evident in his face, a tiny glow of light in a very dark tunnel.

"He won't hurt me; he wants me to choose him of my own free will. What you can do, Eric, is find out all you can about his brother Alfredo. I'm certain he is scheming behind Auguste's back. If you could discover any evidence of his treachery, it could be the key we need."

He nodded his agreement. "I shall make every effort, dear one."

"We don't have much time, take me back to Central Park, that's near the apartment. I'll call him from there."

Eric looked reluctant.

"Do it, now," I insisted, before I had time to change my mind.

When we arrived in the park, I gave Eric the king's private number. He made one more effort to convince me, before he made the call. "I won't let you do this for me." He was trying to sound noble, and almost succeeding.

"Believe me, Eric, I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for myself. I won't spend my life on the run. There has to be a better way, and I'm going to find it." It was the biggest risk I'd ever taken, but deep down, I knew I was doing the right thing. "Call him," I repeated, more firmly this time.

With the utmost reluctance, Eric dialled the number, then handed his phone to me.

"Charles, may I speak with Auguste please?"

Charles was shocked to hear my voice, but also relieved. Auguste was apparently not in the best of tempers; the Boardroom had sustained some serious damage, and it was not only the remains of several vampires which needed cleaning up.

"He will want to speak to me when he hears what I have to say." How I kept my voice from cracking up as I spoke, I will never know.


	13. Chapter 13

I sat in the limo, thinking about Eric, wondering if I could have done anything differently and trying not to think about what would happen when I returned to the apartment. I could rationalise my decision, but I couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach when I considered the price which the king would expect me to pay. With all that inner turmoil going on, I was strangely grateful that the journey was a short one and I was soon standing in the mirrored elevator which would convey me back into captivity.

The doors opened to reveal Auguste waiting for me; his face a mask of cold fury. For several moments he said nothing but stared at me with a terrible intensity. I forced myself to meet his gaze; I still had my pride, if nothing else. Eventually he broke the stare and appraised me carefully from head to toe. I'm sure I looked a mess, with no make-up and my hair all awry, but frankly I didn't care, and I don't think it mattered to him any more than it did to me right then.

When he finally spoke, he wasted no time getting straight to the point. "Did he force himself on you?"

"He claimed what was his." I replied, hoping that sounded suitably vampiric, and stalked off to wash away every trace of my lover with a hot shower. I was almost sick with fear and apprehension, but I was damned if I would show it. Vampires can smell fear, it excites them, and I didn't want him any more excited than necessary.

He was waiting for me when I emerged from the bathroom, but to my surprise his expression had softened, and he took a different tack altogether. "I am glad you came back to me, I find that I have missed you Sookie," he sounded as if it was something he had been shocked to discover, "It's a long time since I have had feelings for a human; centuries in fact."

I forced a smile; his change of mood was unexpected, and it would surely be in my interests to humor him, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to put off the inevitable for long.

"You've had a stressful night," he said, soothingly. "It is not long until dawn, come and sit with me for a while."

He rang for Charles to bring some champagne. Normally I would have said no, for all sorts of good reasons, but my normal sense of control seemed to have deserted me. To have been rescued and returned, loved and lost in one night was just too much, even for me.

"Why did you return to me Sookie?" he asked, as I slipped slowly from the fine crystal glass.

I had prepared my answer to that question, "It was the right thing to do," I replied, then paused before continuing, "What would you have done if I hadn't?"

He looked surprised that I should even bother asking. "I would have hunted you both down, of course. I would have killed you first, and then the Viking. I'm afraid your death would have been slow and painful, in order to ensure that he truly suffered."

I couldn't help but shiver at the thought – it would probably give me nightmares for days, but at least it helped put my decision in perspective.

Auguste maintained a pained expression. "I am glad that I didn't have to do that to you, my dear, although I would very much have enjoyed taking my revenge on the Northman."

"You will keep your promise; you won't make him take the blame for the death of the Queen?" I wouldn't know the truth, whatever he told me, I just had to hope his sense of honor was as important to him as he claimed.

"I gave you my word, and if it is your true wish, I will keep it. I do not understand your concern about the Viking though, do you really believe he cares for you?" His voice was full of contempt.

I didn't know how to answer because I wasn't sure. I knew Eric wanted to have sex with me, as he had demonstrated very enthusiastically. He'd put his existence on the line to rescue me, which must mean something, but whether he really cared for me I couldn't honestly say. "It doesn't matter," I said, deciding to leave things open.

"A vampire is not capable of pure love," he intoned gravely.

"Auguste, do you think I don't know that, but hey, guess what, most humans aren't either." I knew that well enough from years of listening into people's thoughts, hearing them say one thing, whilst thinking the complete opposite.

"I think that you are capable of love, my Sookie, I can sense it in you, and I hope that one day you will find yourself able to care for me. You are mine now, there is no point in fighting the inevitable." He sounded oddly plaintive, but the wounded vampire act made no impression on me. I might once have been the kind of girl who couldn't resist caring for any wounded waif or stray, but not any more.

He pulled me in close, and I knew he was going to kiss me. Sometimes odd thoughts pop into my head at the most inappropriate times, and I remembered an interview I'd read with a high-class escort girl, maybe in '_Cosmo_' or '_Marie Claire_'. She'd said that she would do anything for her clients except kiss them; it was the one act which was just too intimate. As he lowered his mouth towards mine, I understood exactly what she meant. I'm sure lots of women would find Auguste's full lips sensuous and erotic, but to me they seemed fleshy, and when he slipped his tongue into my mouth it was like kissing a slug.

"Please don't think I enjoy keeping you hidden away like this. I want to take you out, show you off. I want you to be recognised as my consort. As soon as I'm sure I can trust you, we will have a normal life together."

I'm sure his idea of normal was very different from mine, but I wasn't in the mood to argue. I could tell from the way that he was getting twitchy it wasn't long till the dawn would call him away. At that point the best I could hope for was to get a few hours of solid, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>I slept in late the next day and it was almost dark when I woke. To my surprise Charles was busy packing suitcases. Auguste had to go to Louisiana, he explained, to deal with Sophie-Anne's affairs.<p>

"I'm sorry that I can't take you, my dear," the king said, "but people might recognise you. I will return as soon as I can."

It's a very good thing he couldn't read my thoughts at that point.

"What will you tell people about Sophie-Anne's death?" I had been worrying about how he was going to explain it, if he wasn't planning on blaming Eric.

"I have given that some thought," as, naturally, he would have done. "When Sophie-Anne was foolish enough to threaten me, one of my loyal guards thought she was about to attack, so he stepped in. He only meant to restrain her, but unfortunately he went too far. Naturally her guards retaliated, but as they were unarmed even their superior strength could not protect them. In the confusion, everyone met their final death, except me," he concluded, cheerfully.

"When the Northman fled the scene so precipitately, I assumed he was responsible, but when I reviewed the events afterwards I realised that he was innocent of that crime, at least."

I looked skeptical, "Do you think people will believe that?"

"It is my word against who else's? There will have to be a Tribunal of course, but it should be a mere formality."

Eric knew what had really happened, and so did I, but I doubted if we would be called as witnesses, and even if we were, who would believe us against the word of a king.

"Now I must go, but I have left a gift for you, Charles will show you in the morning."

I wondered, with more than a hint of bitterness, what the gift might be; a pair of golden handcuffs perhaps, mink-lined for comfort. That would be so very appropriate.

* * *

><p>The prospect of a few days without our master lightened my mood considerably. Charles woke me the day with what was technically my breakfast, even though most people ate in a lot earlier than four in the afternoon.<p>

"I have arranged your gift, miss. I do hope you will like it." He seemed a little awkward and I hoped he hadn't been forced to buy me something embarrassing, like skimpy underwear.

To my great surprise though, he took me down to the basement in the private elevator. He led me over to a dark corner, where I could see a sleek black convertible. I recognised the badge from one of Jason's car magazines: Mercedes Benz. Charles gestured to indicate that this was my gift.

I stared at him, almost speechless. "Why would he do this, is it some kind of a joke?" I stammered out.

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'give a man enough rope and he will hang himself'?" Charles looked at me carefully to see if I realised the significance of what he was saying.

I shook my head, but I could see where this conversation was heading.

"He wants to see if he can trust you. Our master has a suspicious nature, he didn't expect you to return to him, and wants to ensure it is not some kind of a ruse. Of course I shouldn't be telling you this," my friend continued, with a wry smile.

I took the precaution of listening in to his thoughts just in case there was anything else, but what he thinking and what he had said were almost identical. The only additional information I could glean was that the car had a tracker device fitted and that Charles had instructions to accompany me if I left the apartment. Neither of those facts came as a surprise.

"Would you like me to take you out for a spin, Miss?" he offered, as I continued to stare, open-mouthed, at the car. I didn't really mind having him drive me. I wouldn't be able to cope with the city traffic, and besides, even if I tried to escape all that would achieve would be to put those I loved at risk. Brain power, not muscle power was the answer to my problem.

I'm not a city girl. I've only ever been out of Louisiana once, so the streets of New York were like a foreign country to me. I was very glad indeed that Charles was driving as he wove skilfully in and out of the streams of slow-moving traffic. Everyone was so bad tempered, yelling and honking their horns but for once I was able to let the waves of anger and frustration wash over me. It was good to be in contact with the human race for a while, and best of all I got to see some sunshine and blue sky. I could put up with almost anything for that.

* * *

><p>Auguste came back a few nights later, looking very pleased with himself. He'd installed Alfredo in New Orleans as his regent. I thought of Tom, and how devastated he would be to be separated from his hero.<p>

"How did the Louisiana Vampires feel about the new regime?" I couldn't ask him directly but neither of us can have been in any doubt about which vampire I was really interested in.

"Most of them have accepted the inevitable. The Queen's second, her child Andre, argued that he was entitled to succeed her. He even had the temerity to call for a Tribunal to decide, but we…uh… persuaded him to change his mind." He gave a satisfied smirk which suggested that the persuasion had included a good deal of violence. "All of the Sheriffs have pledged their loyalty and support….all apart from the Sheriff of Area Five who appears to be missing, but his child and second is now at court to answer on his behalf, so I am satisfied."

I didn't react to the news that Eric hadn't returned to Louisiana, or that Pam was being held as some kind of hostage for him. What could I do? Auguste had promised that he wouldn't be harmed, and it was possible that he was lying low until he was sure that it was safe to resurface. I did wonder briefly who was in charge of Fangtasia but that was really the least of my worries.

It was too late for him to have any expectations of me that night, but having him back did force me to focus on the need for a plan to get away from him. Problem was, I didn't have one yet and I wasn't sure where inspiration was going to come from.

* * *

><p>I kept to my new routine of getting up an hour earlier so Charles and I could go for our drive. I saw no reason to change my habit just because the king was back, but that day something stopped me in my tracks as I jogged happily across the garage towards my normal parking spot.<p>

At first I was sure my eyes were deceiving me, but as I got closer I could see that someone had driven into the side of my car and gouged a great long furrow of metal into the driver's side door.

My legs gave way beneath me and I collapsed to the floor, great sobs racking my body. It wasn't the damage to the car that upset me, just what it symbolised. I was no more at liberty driving the streets of the city than I was in the apartment, but when I was outside of its walls I felt free, I could see the sun and I could pretend. Now it had all been spoiled.

"What's wrong, Miss?" Charles had glided up beside me in that silent way he seemed to have picked up from the vampires.

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I gestured at the ugly gash along the side of the car. He put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Don't you worry, Miss Sookie, we should be able to find out who was responsible for this." Taking my hand he led me over to the office where the security guards were based.

"Miss Stackhouse's car has been damaged. Could you check the security footage to find out who is responsible?" Maybe it was the British accent, but people seemed to do as he asked them.

"Sure thing, man," the security guard who answered was short and stocky. He was thinking how he didn't envy whoever was responsible for damaging the blood-sucker's whore's car. His companion, a taller, younger man with very bad skin, was thinking pretty much the same. He was also worrying that he'd get in trouble because he'd seen Mrs Weinstein and hadn't said anything on account of her being so friendly and always tipping him real good.

I supressed an urge to slap them both for their rudeness, and instead focussed on the screen while he scrolled back through the recording. He explained that they saved the last thirty days but as the incident had only happened a couple of hours back it didn't take too long to find. I watched the grainy image as an elderly lady got out of the public elevator and walked rather unsteadily towards her car. I thought of Gran, and felt sad. She was parked a few spots away from mine, but when she got in, she must have put it into reverse instead of drive by mistake.

She jerked and crashed right into the side of my car. I watched with a mixture of horror and sympathy as she got out and inspected the damage. The poor woman looked mortified and even though the image quality was poor, I could tell she was about to burst into tears. I suddenly felt very guilty for making such a fuss. It was only a car, it could be repaired, lord knows Auguste could afford it. I was sure Charles could sort everything out without him even having to know about it.

"Listen guys," I said, brightly, "you don't need to say anything about this. We'll sort it out privately." Even as I spoke, another thought occurred to me. I remembered the camera I thought I'd spotted in my room, the first night I'd arrived in the city.

"So is the whole building under surveillance?" I asked, casually.

"No, ma'am, only the public areas: the lobby, the garage, the elevators." The older guard answered. What he was thinking was '_shit, if she only knew_.'

I probed his mind a little further to see if I could work out what he was referring to. The image in his head came over loud and clear, he must have spent a lot of time thinking about it. A very famous female singer was performing what was obviously Auguste's favourite sex act; the only place they could have seen that was in the master bedroom of the apartment. The image quality was a whole lot clearer than the filming in the public areas. I remembered the camera I thought I'd seen in my bedroom. I'd dismissed it at the time, but now I realised that every room was probably under surveillance. Whether Auguste had put them there I had no idea, but maybe it meant there was a witness to the Queen's murder after all - a witness who no-one could argue with.

Keeping my face straight, and my tone jovial, I replied to the guard, hoping to prompt further revelations. "I'm sure glad to hear that; no offence, guys, but I'm not a '_Big Brother'_ fan."

It was a cheap trick, but it worked. Both guards glanced involuntarily at a door in the corner of the room. That was the place I needed to check out – trouble was I had no idea how to get in there. What I needed was an excuse to come back later to try and find out more. Running my fingers casually through my hair, I managed to dislodge an earring, and as Charles and I left, I dropped it on the floor behind the monitors.

I waited a while after we returned to the apartment. The few hours before Auguste rose for the night were usually busy ones for the rest of the household, which might give me a chance to go back downstairs on my own.

"Charles, I think I dropped an earring down in the garage, could you call the elevator for me so I can go look for it. Auguste gave it me, and he'll be real upset if he finds its missing." I knew the elevator code, having listened in each time he took me down, and memorised the number sequence, but I could hardly admit to that.

"Do you need me to come down with you?" He had his big butler's apron on, and appeared to be in the middle of cleaning shoes. He was worrying about how he would get them all done, and then set out the Boardroom for tonight's business, so when I said I was fine to go down alone, he smiled with relief.

Now all I needed to do was find a way into a locked room, find the right recording, and somehow get it out without anyone noticing - no big deal.

I stopped outside the door of the security office. It takes quite an effort to hear people's thoughts through walls, but I focused real hard. Strike one to Sookie, the security guys were watching something they really shouldn't have been, that was clear from their thoughts. I opened the door as quietly as I could and snuck up behind them. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the secure room door was open, and that gave me an idea.

"I hope you'all are getting a good thrill from that, 'cause if a certain person finds out, I'm guessing he might make sure you never get excited about anything else ever again." I thought I did a good job of sounding menacing, and their reactions were suitably horrified as they thought of what the king might do if he knew his most intimate space had been invaded. Perhaps I was spending too much time in the company of vampires, as their terror gave me a little thrill. I didn't feel guilty about that. I'd be willing to bet they'd checked out the tapes from my room as well.

"I came down to look for a piece of jewellery I lost, but I guess I can find that myself. How about you keep watching, and I'll look for my earring and we'll say nothing more about it."

Neither of them moved, which suited me just fine. I snuck into the storage room as quietly as I could, hoping that they wouldn't notice where I had gone.

My second piece of luck was that the storage cupboards were all clearly marked and I had no trouble spotting the one which contained the Penthouse tapes. Even better, it was open – not surprising as the guards were watching one of the recordings. Checking quickly that they weren't watching me, I took the box marked 'Boardroom' and swopped the contents for 'Guest Bedroom', then scooted back out again.

Shoving the tape down the back of my pants, I hurriedly retrieved the earring from where I'd dropped it earlier. "Hey guys, found it," I said cheerfully, but they were too engrossed in their real-life porno movie, or maybe too embarrassed to look at me.

When I got back upstairs, I hurried to my bedroom. Knowing where the camera was located, I was able to keep out of range as I hid the DVD amongst my clothes.

Auguste had a big business meeting that night. No doubt, having been away for a week, there was a lot to catch up with. He didn't invite me to sit in, and that was fine with me. There was no way I would have been able to concentrate, and the risk of revealing something I shouldn't as a result would have been much too high.

I barely slept at all that night, my dreams disturbed by images of torture and death. I wanted to get the evidence out of the apartment as soon as I could. The problem was who to send it to. Who could I trust to understand the significance and know what to do with it?

I thought about sending the recording to Eric, but there were two big problems with that plan. Firstly, and most obviously I had no idea where to find him. Secondly, and more importantly, I didn't want any kind of trail leading back to me or to him.

Then the obvious course of action dawned on me. If I could get it to Alfredo I was certain he wouldn't be able to resist using it. If Auguste was brought to justice, he would be able to take over his kingdom and the birthright he had always been denied. If the true king ever found out what had happened, Alfredo would get the blame. I wanted to laugh, it was so perfect.

There was only one person who could get the recording to Alfredo. Although Tom was officially Auguste's business manager, I was sure he would still be working for the illegitimate older brother.

I knew Tom would be in the office as he was every evening before dark, so I knocked and went in. He glared at me and hurriedly shuffled the papers he'd been working on into a pile. I didn't have to dig too deep into his thoughts to know he was sending something he shouldn't to Alfredo in New Orleans. That was just perfect for my plan.

"Tom, sweetie," I cooed, "do you have an envelope I could have? It's my best friend Tara's birthday, and if I don't send her a note she'll get real suspicious. Auguste wouldn't like that."

Tom briefly considered refusing, but then thought about the consequences and changed his mind. While he was fumbling in a drawer, I slipped the DVD into the envelope which he'd been filling with papers. I could only pray that he wouldn't take them out again.

Now, all I could do was wait. The more I thought about it, the more holes I could see in my plan. What if Tom found the DVD, what if he never sent it? What if Alfredo wasn't as disloyal as I'd anticipated? So many things could go wrong. Worst of all, the plot could be traced back to me. I had zero chance of survival if that happened.

I was still fretting about the odds of success when Auguste rose for the night. I hadn't even dressed after my shower when there was a knock at my door. I knew instantly it wasn't Charles, it was too firm and imperious. I swallowed hard and forced a smile, which faded rapidly as he spoke.

"Tonight my dear, I have the whole evening to devote to you. It is time to begin your instruction as a royal consort." He looked very pleased with the prospect.

For a brief moment I hoped that maybe he meant protocol and deportment, but that was just wishful thinking. The look on his face meant only one thing: sex.

I forced my smile back into place, even though my insides were in turmoil, and I thought my face might crack with the strain of it. Of course I'd known this moment would come, ever since I'd taken the decision to return to him. It was the price I had to pay for saving myself from a life on the run.


	14. Chapter 14

I pulled my towel more tightly around myself and walked to the corner of the room. Since I'd discovered that I was under surveillance, I'd spent a lot of time trying to work out the camera angles and blind spots. I don't know whether Auguste realised that we were being monitored and didn't care as he shrugged off his thick silk robe right there in the middle of the room.

The expression on his face was becoming very familiar to me; I think he was trying to look seductive, but gentle at the same time in the hope that would impress me. When he spoke, he sounded genuinely mystified, "Why do you insist on such false modesty? You are a beautiful woman, you should be happy to be admired."

I shook my head; it was pointless trying to explain. Vampires may have been human once, but they were different from us in so many ways.

He sat down on the side of the bed and beckoned me towards him. I could see that he was fully aroused and the realisation of what he wanted me to do brought on a wave of nausea, but I swallowed hard to try to supress it. Auguste must have noticed, or perhaps he could sense my emotions.

"It's really not that bad," he said, trying to sound jovial, "hundreds of women have told me how much they enjoy it."

Yeah, of course, and maybe hundreds of women had lied, I thought. I certainly knew quite a few who had, whatever they might say publicly. I took another deep breath. Maybe I could just approach it like any other unpleasant task; cleaning the toilet, or cleaning up after Jason when he had a really bad hangover.

It turned out I couldn't though. As he guided me into position and instructed me what to do with my hands and my mouth, images of Uncle Bartlett came flooding back into my mind. Bile rose again in my throat and I had to push myself away and run to the bathroom. I only just made it to the basin in time.

When I looked up, holding onto the sides of the vanity unit for support, Auguste was standing in the doorway.

"What is wrong, my Sookie?" He asked, sounding upset. "Am I that repulsive to you?"

"No, it's not that," I stammered, feeling myself tearing up. I couldn't look at him, but he could see my face in the mirror anyway. "When I was a child, I had an uncle. He forced himself on me, forced me to do things. That's why I've never…."

"Does this uncle still live? I will kill him for you." Great, that was obviously the typical vampire reaction.

"That's not the point; it's just that if I even try to get intimate, it brings it all back."

"I could glamour you if you wish, that might help," he said, hopefully.

That was the last thing I wanted; to pretend to be glamoured and pretend to enjoy having sex with him would take much better acting skills than mine. "No, that won't make any difference. I've tried treatment but nothing works," I lied.

His thoughts had gone off in another direction. "So when the Northman forced himself on you, this made it worse?" He sounded pleased at that thought.

I nodded. I hated having to lie, but I couldn't see how it would hurt Eric, and it would certainly help me. Auguste seemed satisfied with my response as he turned back into the bedroom and put his robe on.

"You will be mine, Sookie, do not be in any doubt of that, but I will not rush you. In fact, I have an idea, something you may enjoy." With that mysterious pronouncement he left me with instructions to get dressed and join him.

* * *

><p>A few nights later, I had a surprising, and initially unwelcome visitor. The lovely Rachel had been called in. She arrived with a huge dress bag and hat box which between them took up the whole of my bed.<p>

"Well aren't you lucky, Cinderella," she said, sarcastically, "You shall go to the ball."

As she was so rude, I didn't feel bad about listening into her thoughts. Something was the 'hottest ticket in town' apparently, and she couldn't understand why the king was taking me when Madonna and Naomi Campbell were both available.

The dress she had brought me looked like something Marie Antoinette might have worn, and as it turned out that was exactly the point. I was going to accompany Auguste to a charity masked ball. I have to confess I got a little excited at the thought of going out and mingling with other people. I was surprised that he would trust me, but then I'd had my chances to run and I hadn't taken them. I didn't even mind when Rachel laced me into a corset so tightly I could hardly breathe – she was rough, which I'm sure was deliberate. As soon as she'd gone, I had Charles loosen it up for me. The mask was combined with a tall headdress and covered most of my face. As long as I kept it on there was no chance that anyone would recognise me. From Auguste's point of view it was perfect.

We were driven across town to an enormous theatre, maybe an opera house, I'm really not sure. All I know is that the lobby was grand enough for a palace, with thick red carpet everywhere and a huge, sweeping staircase. Scarlett O'Hara wouldn't have looked out of place.

It was impossible not to stare at the extravagance of the costumes; there was obviously a great deal of competition to be the star of the show. Some of the guests posed for photos, but we were hustled past the ranks of paparazzi. I did notice a few heads turn my way, although that might have been on account of the way the corset plumped up my cleavage. It could have been Auguste they were admiring of course; I can't deny that he looked stunningly handsome. He'd come as an eighteen century King of Sicily – not exactly original but no-one could say he wasn't authentic.

The glamour of the event soon wore off for me, as Auguste began an interminable round of meeting and greeting various dignitaries. In his public life he avoided celebrities and focussed on politicians and businessmen. I tried my best to look interested, or at least as interested as I could when my face was almost entirely hidden. All I could really do was nod at what I hoped was the correct points in the conversation. By the time we got to the Mayor, my neck was aching and I was losing the will.

That was the moment when a figure in the corner caught my eye. He wasn't masked, but he'd based his costume on Captain Jack Sparrow, complete with dirty blond dreadlocks, thick black eye-makeup, mustache and a goatee beard. He'd captured the roguish attraction of the character so well that only his height indicated that he couldn't possibly be the real thing. He was just about within range and a quick scan revealed that he was a vampire. My heart began to beat faster and I really hoped that Auguste wouldn't sense my emotions. I told myself it couldn't be the person I thought it was, he would never do something so reckless, but still I made an excuse to go get some food.

"Sookie," he murmured softly, as I stood a few feet away. The voice was unmistakable, that hint of an accent that always made my stomach do a little flip-flop.

"Eric, what the fuck are you doing here, are you completely crazy?" I hissed out of the corner of my mouth while making sure I didn't look at him.

"No more than you, my dear. I hope you are not regretting your decision to go back."

"No…well,….I'm coping." I didn't want him getting angry and doing something stupid so I had to supress my true feelings.

"If he has hurt you, I will tear him limb from limb." Eric's voice had risen a notch; I noticed a couple of people turn to look and aimed a quick kick at his ankle to shut him up. Luckily the action was hidden by my voluminous skirts.

"You'll do nothing of the sort; I've sacrificed far too much to have you spoil it now. You agreed that we needed a long-term plan. I was hoping you might be in Louisiana dealing with Alfredo."

"Pam informs me that the king's regent is making enemies. He makes too many demands and is capricious in administering justice. There is a good chance we can build an alliance against him." There was unmistakable pride in his tone.

"I chose to stay here. I feel…..responsible for you." He continued, a slight hesitation in his voice, I found his admission rather sweet. "Besides, I am not without contacts; I am gathering information which will be useful. You may not have to suffer the indignity of his attentions for much longer." He glared briefly in Auguste's direction.

I circled the table, picking up a few items for my plate even though I had no appetite any more, then moving away from him so as not to attract attention. Eric got the hint and glided over to stand beside the bar, half hidden behind a curtain.

"How did you know I would be here anyway?" I asked, following him at what I hoped was a discreet distance.

"That required a certain amount of sacrifice on my part," he explained with a false sigh. "I tracked down that bag of bones who the king has dress you, and glamoured her to reveal your plans."

"I have to go back to Auguste. Your being here puts us both in danger." Eric looked hurt by my words, as if I was denying him the chance for some heroic deed. "You work on your plan; I'll work on mine, and have Pam concentrate on dealing with Alfredo." It felt very odd for me to be the one giving orders but I could see the king looking around, wondering where I was. "I have to go."

"Who was that you were talking to?" Auguste asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice.

"Just some vampire admiring my outfit; apparently he knew the real Marie Antoinette, and he says I look real authentic," I replied with what I hoped was casual pride. Knowing Eric, that could well have been true.

Auguste glared over in the direction of the table, but to my relief, the Viking had made a discreet exit and was no-where to be seen.

By the end of the evening my feet were aching, and so was my head from the weight of my headdress, but I didn't care about the pain. For the first time in weeks I felt hopeful. Maybe things were finally going my way.

Auguste's regular driver was an elderly black man called Claude. Like everyone in the king's human collection there was a little bit of history attached to him – his first job had been as a mechanic in the White House garage, but he'd worked his way up and had once chauffeured JFK on a trip to Chicago.

Claude was a real sweetie. He was quite deaf, and I'm not sure his eyesight was that great, but he always had a cheerful smile. He used to hum old blues tunes, singing along in his head. Sometimes I'd tease him by listening in, then singing the same song. He was impressed that I knew the words and never realised how of course.

I was wondering what tonight's tune would be as we approached the car, but to my surprise I couldn't 'hear' a thing. As I strained to tune in to his thoughts, I realised that the driver had the distinctive lack of brain patterns that marked him out as a vampire.

"Auguste," I whispered, giving a gentle tug on his sleeve to attract his attention, "are you sure this is your car?"

He shrugged, looking at me as if I was crazy. The security guard waiting by the door looked no different from normal, but then all his security guys were identical, heavy set, short hair, dark shades. I couldn't tell the difference between them, and I wondered if he could.

I'd memorised the route on the way there, not for any reason, just as a brain teaser. It didn't take me long to realise that we weren't going back the same way. Surprisingly it took Auguste a little longer, but that was probably because he was more interested in seeing how far he could get his hands up my skirt before I swatted him away. When he did finally realise something was wrong he banged on the glass to get the driver's attention. The vampire driver ignored him. He went for the door handle, only to find it was locked.

"What is the meaning of this," he stormed. A pointless question as the only person who could answer was me and I didn't have a clue.

When we finally did come to a halt we were bundled unceremoniously out of the limo, our masks ripped off and replaced with blindfolds. I heard the click of handcuffs, and then a faint, unpleasant, smell. Auguste cursed blue murder: "what do you think you are doing?"; "do you know who I am?" and other similar clichéd phrases rolled off his tongue in a tone which was increasingly angry and disbelieving.

I tried to stay calm, reasoning that there was no point in panicking until I knew whether whoever had seized us was friend or foe. I think I must have been separated from the king as his voice faded into the distance. The foul stench, which I realised was burning flesh, slowly disappeared as well.

I was lifted off the floor by two vampires, one holding each arm. I think we went up or maybe down in an elevator, I recognised the click of the doors and the whirr of the motor. Their footsteps echoed along a corridor of some kind, and finally I was shoved into a chair with the instruction to keep silent. As if I was going to do anything else.

I don't think I've ever known time to pass so slowly, as I waited for some indication of what was going on. Eventually I heard a door swing open; it must have been big as it creaked slowly on its hinges.

"Bring the human," a deep voice intoned in the distance. I was pulled up to my feet and the blindfold removed. It took me a few seconds to adjust to the gloom; the room was lit only by glowing flares of real flame along each wall. The ceiling was high, supported by a row of thick marble pillars along each side. My heels clacked loudly across the stone floor, echoing in the silence. At one end of the great hall was a dais with an ornate wood and gold throne, which dwarfed its tiny occupant. A makeshift dock was set up in the corner, where Auguste sat, chained in silver around his wrists and neck. I could smell his burning flesh. Several rows of chairs were set out at the front, their occupants all vampires. In one corner, looking strangely modern and incongruous, a giant screen was set up. The picture on it was frozen and captured the moment when the king's sword flashed through the air, and the head of the queen flew off. Alfredo had come through just as I had hoped.

"So this is the human who has caused all the trouble, bring her forward." The voice came from the creature who occupied the dais, but I had to strain to hear; it was barely more than a whisper. At the same time every head in the room turned to look at me. I probably didn't look my best any more on account of the manhandling I'd had. My dress was ripped across one shoulder and my carefully pinned up hair had come loose. Maybe that was why everyone was staring, but I don't really know.

The occupant of the throne had to be the oldest thing I had ever seen. It was hard to tell that she had ever been a woman, but the few wisps of grey hair that hung down to her bony shoulders suggested that had once been her sex. There was no flesh on her at all; her skin was paper-thin and clung to the bones of her face. Her sunken eyes were silver and unmoving.

"Bow down before the Ancient Pythoness," one of my guards hissed and forced me down into a rough curtsey.

"King Auguste Cesario has been brought before this tribunal accused of the murder of Queen Sophie-Anne Leclerq. He says she attacked him and tried to steal what was his. What do you have to say to this?" she whispered.

"I…I.." it was impossible to get the words out.

"Come closer, girl, I can't hear you." The old woman's voice, though soft, was imperious, and I stumbled forward. She took my hands in her bony claws and, inclining her head slightly, she sniffed the air around me. "What are you?" she asked.

"My name is Sookie Stackhouse, and I'm a waitress from Bon Temps Louisiana." I tried to sound confident.

"What else?" she gripped my hand more tightly as if she could feel my answer through my skin.

"Nothing else, I'm really nothing special."

"Do you belong to the King of New York?"

"I met the King when he came to Louisiana to visit with Queen Sophie-Anne. He wanted me to come to New York with him, but I wouldn't leave my family and friends." I decided it was best to leave Eric out of the picture for now. "He took me against my will, but I do not belong to anyone, I am my own person."

"You are not telling me the whole truth, you smell of another vampire," she said, accusingly.

"Before I left Louisiana, I had…um…" I wasn't quite sure how to describe what my relationship with Eric was. I didn't think she would be impressed by human terms like dating, if she even understood them. "I had been seeing Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area Five."

"I see," she said, nodding her head very slowly. I got the impression that she knew of Eric, but she gave no hint of what she thought of him. "So there was a pre-existing contract?"

That's not exactly how I would have described it, but I nodded in agreement, it seemed the best thing to do.

She dismissed me with a wave of the hand and my guards took me back to a line of chairs. The row was empty apart from me. I couldn't bring myself to look at Auguste, so I watched as two strange creatures approached the old woman from behind and dipped their heads in earnest conversation. They were both well over seven feet tall, and seemed to have a green tinge to their skin. There were obviously more supernaturals in the world that I'd ever realised.

"All rise," one of the guards intoned, just like a human courtroom.

Auguste rose unsteadily to his feet, the effect of the silver already evident. I took a deep breath, wondering what would happen next. It was the moment I'd been waiting for, but would it be freedom or an even worse fate for me.

The old woman was helped to her feet by the creatures who stood either side. Complete silence fell in the hall as all those present strained to hear her words.

"Auguste Cesario, you have been found guilty of the crime of regicide. This is a matter of the greatest import. Lenience has been shown, in view of your own status. You will serve a sentence of one hundred years chained in silver. Your possessions will be forfeit, and you will be stripped of your position."

Auguste stared ahead, trying not to show the pain he must have been feeling. The other vampires in the room began to whisper amongst themselves. I could pick out a few words. 'Dreadful,'…'for a human, disgraceful,'….'far too lenient,'…'it cannot be tolerated.' The reactions provided me with a brief distraction, but I still had no idea what was going to happen to me. Auguste turned briefly to look in my direction and forced a smile. 'I'm sorry my dear,' he mouthed. I managed a sympathetic smile in return.

Of course I was delighted to be free of him, and honestly amazed that my plan had worked, but still I felt a tiny twinge of guilt. A hundred years was such a long time and I wondered whether a vampire prison would be as unpleasant as a human one could be. I also wondered what Alfredo's reaction would be when he found out about the punishment– he'd obviously expected to inherit the title otherwise he wouldn't have used the tape, but maybe he'd misread that bit of the vampire constitution.

The now-former king was dragged away, and the other vampires stood and began to file out. "What about me?" I asked plaintively as only the two guards who had brought me in remained. They looked at each other puzzled, as if they didn't know what to do without instructions.

One of them shrugged. "I guess you'd better come with us." The other nodded in agreement and, taking my arm rather more roughly than I would have liked, he pulled me out along the corridor and back in the direction of the elevator. We emerged onto a busy street and they vanished into thin air, leaving me standing there alone.


	15. Chapter 15

I found myself completely alone, standing on a busy street in the early hours of the morning, dressed as a rather tattered Marie Antoinette. It got me some very strange looks from the passers by. I glanced at the building behind me, an imposing gothic structure isolated in a sea of modernity. Its doors were now firmly shut, but going back into the lair of the vampires wouldn't have been my first choice anyway.

"Are you alright, miss?" a sympathetic looking, grey haired man stopped to ask me. It was a rare gesture of kindness in an impersonal city, but the trouble was I didn't know what help to ask for. I didn't know the address of Auguste's penthouse. I was guessing that to say 'somewhere near Central Park' wouldn't be much help. Going back there wouldn't be such a great idea either; the vampires would be quite capable of seizing me as one of his possessions.

If only I had some way of contacting Eric, and anyway shouldn't he know where I was. What use were his super vampire senses if he couldn't come to my aid when I really needed him. Then, just as I was beginning to consider panicking, a limousine which I was sure I recognised, drew up against the sidewalk. I dropped my shields to listen to the driver and heard the familiar sound of Claude's blues.

"How did you find me?" I asked Charles, as I struggled with my unwieldy gown into the back seat. I was mighty grateful that he had of course.

"There is a tracker device sewn into your dress, just as a precaution you understand." Charles shrugged to indicate that this was normal vampire behaviour, barely worthy of comment. "What has happened to the king?" he continued, "Claude came to pick you up from the Ball, but there was no sign of you. He waited until the last guest had left."

I gave him the edited version of what had happened, leaving out my part in it. Whatever Charles might think of his employer's behaviour, I knew he was loyal. He wouldn't begrudge me my freedom but he probably wouldn't like how I'd gone about getting it.

He didn't look too surprised at the outcome. "I knew the king's temper would get him into trouble sooner or later. The vampire world can be quite medieval, so I had prepared for every eventuality."

He was smiling as he finished, and handed me a small overnight bag. Lying on top were a pair of jeans, an NYU sweatshirt, underwear and a pair of trainers. Charles is certainly the kind of guy you want to have around in a crisis – he knows his priorities. He turned his back politely as I struggled out of my dress and slid into the day clothes.

There was something else in the bottom of the bag: a large wooden box. When I opened it, I saw it was filled with some of the jewellery Auguste had bought for me.

"I can't take this Charles, it would be wrong. I'm not a whore and I won't have people thinking that about me." I knew how quick people would be to jump to conclusions if they found out, and those conclusions would be the nastiest ones they could think of.

He took my hands in his, and his concern for me was like a physical force radiating from his brain. "No-one who really knows you would think that. You must ensure you can protect yourself in future Miss Sookie, I insist on it. Think of it as an insurance policy. You can put them in a safe-deposit and never think of them again if you wish, or sell them and give the money to charity, but one day you might find yourself in need of money. My dear old mother always told me to have something put by for a rainy day." His expression was deadly serious, to reinforce his point. "Also, I have this for you." He handed me a thick brown envelope. I shoved it into the bag to read later.

"What about you and Claude?" They were both homeless and unemployed, not a good combination. I couldn't bear to think of them on the streets, but of course Charles was far too sensible to let that happen.

"We have taken a few items, to cover our salaries in lieu of notice. There was never a complete inventory of the king's possessions so no-one will miss them. Now don't you worry about us; we need to get you home."

The limo had internet access so Charles was able to check national flights out of La Guardia and book me the first available seat back to Shreveport. So it was that a few hours later I was stretched out on a bed-seat in Business Class, being served champagne by a flight attendant who was trying to work out what a scruffily dressed white trash like me could have done to afford the ticket. If only she knew.

When I emerged at the other end, there was a driver waiting for me; Charles had managed to track down Bon Temps' only cab company. Gabe, the owner and main driver of Gabe's Taxi Service was holding up a sign which said 'Miss Stackhouse', just like I was someone real important. As he drove me back to Bon Temps I finally began to feel some of the stress of the last few weeks drain away. The further I was from New York the more the events there seemed like a dream, or a nightmare. Nothing had changed in Louisiana. Cypress trees lined the roads; the odd abandoned car lay burned out in a ditch. In a clearing, I could see an elderly couple on their porch watching the world go by from matching rocking chairs.

Everything was so normal, and yet I was so different. I would never see the world quite the same again and that thought had me choking up. A trickle of tears leaked down my cheeks, but I wiped them away fiercely, not wanting Gabe to see my distress. As far as everyone knew I'd been visiting with Cousin Hadley, there was nothing to be upset about and I didn't want anyone to know different.

My old house looked the same, at least on the outside. I retrieved the spare key from its hiding place in the outhouse and let myself in. I could tell someone had been there, on account of it being so clean. I ran my finger over the hall table; not even a trace of dust. I wondered if Jason had been responsible, but quickly dismissed that idea. A pile of bills lay on the kitchen table. I shook my head, reflecting sadly that they were what had got me into this mess in the first place, them and my own naivety. To my surprise they were all stamped 'paid' with an official looking red stamp. It could have been Sam who was responsible, but I didn't think so.

I was long overdue a shower, so I hid my little box of treasure under the floorboards in the spare room cupboard and covered it up with a pile of boxes. Then I used up every last drop of hot water in the tank trying to wash away all traces of New York.

I should have known better than to expect to have time to relax. By the time I'd emerged from the shower it was dark outside and no sooner was I dressed that there was a knock at the door. Which gossip network had kicked in first – vampire or human?

The empty brain pattern confirmed that my first visitor was a vampire and from the height of the shadow I knew it wasn't Eric. Peeking round the curtain, I saw instead his child and second, the lovely Pam.

"I am so glad to have you back," she gushed, and as if that wasn't unexpected enough, gave me a great big hug.

"Come in Pam, how are you?" I asked politely, apologising for not being able to offer her a True Blood. The ones I'd left in the fridge would be past their use-by date now.

"I'm glad to be back in Shreveport. Things are not good at court. Alfredo is refusing to stand down, and there will be a challenge. There could be more bloodshed." Despite what she'd said, her expression suggested she would be sorry to miss that.

"When do you think that will happen?" I was mainly wondering about how Eric would be affected, I didn't care what happened to the treacherous Alfredo, he deserved everything he got. I know that makes me a hypocrite, but I don't care.

"I'm not sure," she replied, so quickly that I was sure she was lying, but then I couldn't see any reason for her to be dishonest, so I dismissed the idea.

"Do you blame Eric for what has happened to you?" she asked, changing tack.

I took a few moments to consider my reply. "There are things he could maybe have done differently, things he could have warned me about, but no I don't blame him. I'm a big girl, Pam, I made my decisions and I have to live with the consequences."

She took her time to consider my response, and I couldn't resist adding, "mind you, I get the feeling that subtlety isn't his strong point, he could probably have found a better way to try to rescue me than have Sophie-Anne launch a head-on attack."

That had her laughing out loud. "I'm afraid, Sookie, that underneath he's a Viking and always will be."

I hated to sound suspicious but I had to ask her, "Did he send you to ask me this?"

"Yes," she replied. One of the things I like about Pam is that you can almost always rely on her to tell the truth. "He was worried that you would refuse to see him again; that you would rescind his invitation to enter your home."

"No, I wouldn't do that. I'm not sure that I'm ready to see him quite yet though. I need some time to clear my head, get things straight."

"Ah…" Pam said, drawing the expression out very slowly. "That's a shame, because he's outside in my car."

_Well he can damn well go away_, I thought as an unexpected wave of bitterness washed over me. The emotion must have shown on my face, as Pam looked concerned.

"He is sorry," she said, "I'm not sure I've ever seen him genuinely sorry before, certainly not for anything he has done to a human." She was pursing her lips and looking very serious. I wondered if it was an act, something the two of them had cooked up to break down my resistance.

"Okay," I finally conceded, "tell him he can come in."

Pam disappeared and reappeared within seconds, Eric standing behind her on the threshold. To my amazement he looked contrite. It was such an unexpected expression to see on his handsome face that I'm sorry to say I laughed.

"I too am glad to have you back, Sookie," he said, and I realised he'd been outside listening to our conversation the whole time.

"I'll leave you two to get reacquainted," Pam snickered, "someone has to run Fangtasia, and enthr…." She never got to finish the sentence. Eric cut her off with an angry gesture, "please do not use that expression, Pamela. I have told you how I despise it."

She scowled and I just looked from one to the other, mystified. Then she disappeared, and Eric and I were left with an awkward silence, neither of us quite sure what to say or wanting to make the first move.

Eventually, I took a seat on the couch and gestured to him to join me. He took a place at the other end, not quite close enough to touch me.

"I'm going to be honest with you here, Eric," I had things I needed to say to him, and waiting wouldn't make them any easier, "It's going to take time for me to get over what happened. I can't just forget it and move on. I'm not sure where it leaves…" I was going to say 'us' but I wasn't sure there was an 'us' so I settled on "you and me."

"Pam warned me you might feel like this," his brows were knitted together in an expression of concern. "She knows about these things." Half-turning in his seat, he looked at me, still deadly serious. "There are many things I would have done differently, but I did not know you then as I know you now. It didn't seem necessary. I am truly sorry that you suffered as a result."

"To be honest, Eric, I didn't think you cared. You were happy to use me to make your Summit go with a bang. You didn't think about the consequences then." Maybe I was being unfair, but I couldn't control all the pent up anger and bitterness inside, however hard I tried.

"We have used humans to serve us for thousands of years, what did you expect?" His response was brutal, but accurate.

"So what's changed?"

"There's something very different about you. You are brave, resilient, clever – it is a rare combination." A hint of a smile crinkled his bright blue eyes, "also have I mentioned that you are beautiful, and that you have the most perfect breasts."

Just very occasionally, I wished that I could read a vampire's thoughts as I could those of a human. This was one of those times. I was never quite sure whether I should be more suspicious of serious Eric or seductive Eric – they'd both demonstrated how easily they could get me into trouble.

It seemed that he was ready to forget the past and move on. I guess you don't survive for a thousand years if you can't do that; I just wished I could forget as easily.

"We should go on our date," he announced. "Tomorrow night. You don't need to tell the shifter that you have returned. I have loaned him a waitress from Fangtasia to cover for you, she can work for a few more nights."

I considered his proposal. It would mean breaking my vow to keep away from the vampire world, but if it was just him and me, surely that would be safe enough.

"I'll come on a date with you, but I have a few conditions," I tried to sound firm. Eric gestured to indicate that I should continue.

"It's just a date, right, just you and me, no vampire politics?"

He was quick to nod in agreement.

"No hidden agendas, no unexpected surprises?"

"Sookie, dear one," Eric put on his 'hurt' face, which was cute and completely unconvincing, "how could you think that of me?"

"Eric," I was trying to hustle him out of the door at this point, "you're a vampire, what else do you expect me to think. Now scoot, I need to get some sleep. You can pick me up at eight-thirty tomorrow night. Oh and by the way, my boss's name is Sam Merlotte, not 'the shifter'."

He bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek, followed by a wicked grin, as if to remind me what I was turning down by not letting him stay. Then he was off into the darkness.

When he'd gone I remembered the envelope which Charles had given me, and couldn't resist a quick look, despite my exhaustion. It contained a thick file full of photographs, copies of official certificates, newspaper clippings and a hand-written family tree. Auguste had been doing his research on me, and also on my cousin Hadley. I was surprised to find that she had been married, and divorced, and that she had a young son: a five year old boy named Hunter. It seemed that she had been living in New Orleans but after Katrina had moved to a small town just outside Baton Rouge. I memorised all the details and decided to give her a call in the morning, I'd need to catch up to make sure I got my story straight.

By the next morning the human gossip networks were in full swing. Tara was the first to call by, followed by Jason and then a phone call from Sam. I was surprised how easily the lies came to me and how easily people were convinced. Auguste had played his part too, sending text messages in my name so that everyone thought I was just across the state, not half-way across the country.

Sam was happy enough with the replacement waitress Eric had provided for him. Some customers refused to have her serve them of course, but it seemed she was quite a draw, especially for the young jocks from Bon Temps High. There was a bet on who could get her into bed first, on account of the reputation vampires had for being hot in the sack. There had been one nasty moment when she went too far with one of them and nearly drained him dry, but Pam had stepped in and sorted everything out.

Once I'd finished updating everyone, I ran a few errands, then with nothing else to do, spent the afternoon sunbathing. It didn't cost me a penny but it was the greatest luxury I could think of. After all those weeks spent mainly in darkness the feel of the sun on my skin was magical.

When it was time to get ready for my date, I selected the outfit I'd bought from 'Tara's Togs' all those weeks ago. It was still hanging where I'd left it on the back of the bathroom door, to steam out the creases. I brushed my hair back into a high pony-tail which would swing from side to side as I danced, and teamed it with a light make up of lip-gloss and mascara. The look suggested an innocence which I'd once had but was now lost, but at least it was entirely my own selection to please me and no-one else. Okay, maybe I did think about how Eric would like the way the skirt swirled when I danced and showed my thighs.

As it turned out, he really appreciated the look. "We don't have to go out if you don't want to," he offered, hopefully. "We could always stay in and …entertain ourselves." He lowered his voice as he finished the sentence so that it rolled dark and husky out of his chest. There were times when he was just temptation on a stick. I'm proud to say that I managed to resist.

"We're still going dancing, right?" I asked as he helped me into the passenger seat of his Corvette.

"Yes, if that is your wish. There is a little club I know, just outside Shreveport. It's very discreet. They have a vampire band playing tonight."

The night flew by. We didn't get to talk much as the music was too loud, but we danced until I could barely stand. Eric is a wonderful dancer, whether the band chose a fast jive tune or a slow romantic ballad. When he held me tight, and brushed his cheek against mine, I knew that I wanted him as my lover. It wasn't just sex, it was the way I felt safe in his arms, the way I felt needed. Maybe I was delusional; I'd been warned often enough that vampires didn't have feelings in the way that humans did. I just wished I knew if I could trust him - I guess only time would tell.

We didn't talk much on the way back either. The roar of the engine and the wind in my ears made it impossible. Every now and then, Eric would turn to me with a contented smile. When he wasn't shifting gear, he would take my hand in a gesture which seemed oddly teenaged considering how long he had walked the earth.

I wasn't fooled though, and sure enough the real Eric resurfaced as he walked me to my front door. "So now we've had our date, do I get to have sex with you again?" he asked, looking hopeful.

His suggestion was tempting, very tempting. The memory of having him hold me, the feeling of him inside me was still clear from our brief encounter. It had been the thing that sustained me through those difficult days after I returned to the king's penthouse, when I'd wondered if I would ever know freedom again.

"I haven't been with another woman since you were taken," he said proudly, as if that might convince me to change my mind.

"I appreciate that, Eric," and to tell the truth I was impressed that he would make such an effort for me, "but I need some time. I'm just not ready to rush into anything yet."

"Pam did warn me that you might be reluctant. I'd be happy just to hold you as you sleep," he said.

So that night I did something I would never have thought possible, I fell asleep, dressed in my old sleepshirt and pants, in the arms of a vampire.

* * *

><p>I was disappointed not to find a message from him when I woke late the next morning. I thought he might have left me a note; or sent a text on my phone. Instead he sent Pam, who arrived on my porch half an hour after darkness fell.<p>

"Eric asked me to bring you flowers," she explained, holding out a huge bouquet with a very vampiric red and black colour scheme.

I'm sorry to say that I was instantly suspicious. Vampires don't run errands, especially not for humans. If they want flowers delivered, they call Teleflora. She had an ulterior motive, I was sure of it. Still, remembering my manners I asked her in, and offered her a True Blood. I'd stocked up at the Grabbit Kwik the previous afternoon.

"You seem to be settling back in," she said, conversationally as she settled herself at the kitchen table. "How was your stay with King Auguste? He is reputed to be a great lover, and very generous to his women."

She realised she'd said the wrong thing when I scowled at her, and clapped a hand over her mouth with an exaggerated look of embarrassment.

"Eric is dying to know who found the evidence to have the king convicted of Sophie-Anne's murder," she said, clearly fishing for information, which I was equally determined not to give her.

We carried on for a while, making small talk, while I waited for some indication of why she had come. Eventually I couldn't stand it any longer so I asked her straight. "Did Eric send you here to ask me something?"

Pam found that very amusing. "You are certainly getting the measure of him, Sookie, this is a good thing." Then she laughed but said nothing more.

I was getting exasperated. "Pam if you're here for a reason, could you please just tell me."

She launched into an update on the local political situation, and it took me a while to realise the point.

"As I told you, Alfredo is refusing to give up the crown of Louisiana. He is holed up in the Queen's complex surrounded by his fiercest guards. The Kings of Nevada, Mississippi and Arkansas have issued a formal challenge. A summit has been called to consider the case. The oldest and wisest vampire in the country has been called in to judge."

"The Ancient Pythoness?" I interjected, much to Pam's surprise. "She presided over Auguste's trial."

"Yes, it is she."

I still wasn't sure what this all had to do with me.

"All of the Louisiana sheriffs are expected to attend, and Eric wishes you to accompany…"

"No Pam, how could he possibly think I would do that," politeness be damned, I was furious. "Is that why he took me out on a date, to sweet-talk me into going along with him?" I couldn't believe I had been so stupid as to fall for his manipulation again.

Pam looked hurt at the suggestion. "Sookie, he took you on a date because he likes your company, and because he wants to have sex with you. It was nothing to do with this request."

I couldn't tell whether she was lying or not, but I still wasn't about to let her talk me into anything.

"So he sent you to tell me this, he didn't have the guts to come himself." I wasn't sure which made me most furious, the request or the way it was being delivered.

"He thought you would be more likely to listen to me. It's really not such a big deal."

"I'm sorry Pam, but after what happened last time I went to a vampire summit, I'm not prepared to take the risk."

"You're being unfair on him. He tried to protect you."

"If that's his idea of protection…he never explained the risks, or warned me of the danger I was in."

"Sookie, you have to realise how bad this will make him look. He risked his existence for you; he has named you as his human companion. If he cannot produce you for the summit he will be seriously weakened. Is that what you want?"

"Pam, I thought you were …" I was going to say 'my friend' but that would be far to intimate a claim for the relationship I had with her. "I thought you would understand."

She was looking at me as if I was speaking a foreign language, and in a way I was. The language of human emotions is one of the few that that Vampires just don't speak at all.

"Well I'm sorry but I don't," she was sounding stern now. "You are happy to share Eric's company, you have slept with him, you have let him feed on you. You know that he will protect you. I do not see what the problem is."

Maybe from a vampire perspective there was no problem, but I was determined not to get sucked into their world again. I knew it might mean that I'd never see Eric again but after what happened last time I was just too well aware of the consequences of getting involved in vampire politics.

"I'm sorry Pam; I'm not changing my mind here. I won't do it."

She didn't say another word, just made a great show of noisily washing out her empty True Blood bottle, then slammed the door and disappeared into the night.


	16. Chapter 16

What do you get when two bull-headed people go toe to toe? I was about to find out. I wanted Eric to have the grace to call me and at least ask me to the Summit in person. I could only guess that he thought that I was the one in the wrong and that I should call him.

In the end it was me who blinked first. I spoke to Pam and asked her to arrange for Eric to meet with me. I didn't like involving her. She may be Eric's child, and the closest thing I had to a friend in the vampire community, but I felt uncomfortable bringing a third person into our shaky relationship.

Her intervention got me an invitation to meet with him at Fangtasia. Sam had started me back on the lunchtime shift at Merlotte's, as he was hoping to keep Jessica, the vampire girl, doing nights. He didn't really mind that Jane Bodehouse had pronounced it 'disgusting' and announced that she was taking her custom elsewhere. The young men who Jessica brought in spent more and tipped bigger, so everyone was pleased.

I couldn't shake the suspicion that being called to Fangtasia was intended to remind me just how lucky I was to be his chosen one, as he had the usual crowd of adoring women, and men, clustered around him when I arrived. Pam was acting cool, but then she was doing her scary vampire act in the filmy black chiffon and lace dress which I knew she hated.

"Is this all for my benefit?" I asked her, indicating Eric and his fan club across the room.

"Honestly Sookie, it's not _all_ about you," she snapped back. _Ouch_. "This is his job. The customers pay to see vampires and he is the biggest draw there is.

Suitably chastened, I went to the bar and tried to make conversation with Longshadow. He seemed unwilling to respond – I'm not sure what I'd done to upset him. That left me with nothing to do but wait. I dropped my shields in order to pass the time, but soon realised that most people were only thinking about sex. The only person who wasn't was a waitress whose name badge said 'Ginger'; she was wondering if I was an undercover IRS agent. That seemed to worry her a lot.

I didn't have time to wonder about it, as Eric appeared at my side and leant down to brush a cool kiss across my cheek. That sent the fang-bangers into a silent frenzy. _Who does she think she is_? and, _How on earth could he be interested in a frump like her_? were the politest of their thoughts.

Draping an arm casually around my shoulder, he guided me out back to the office. I took a seat on the couch. All the fancy furniture from the summit had disappeared and the battered old leather one was back. It sagged in the middle, I noticed. Eric stood for a while in that pose he favours, propped up against the desk, one ankle crossed over the other. I don't know much about body language but I think it was meant to show that he was the one in control.

We had another of those long, awkward silences, before he finally relented and sat down next to me.

"You are a stubborn woman, Sookie Stackhouse." He seemed to find that amusing.

"Eric," I spluttered, outraged, "you have a cheek. Pot meet kettle!"

He wrinkled his forehead briefly, then laughed as he realised my meaning.

That lightened the tension, but I still had to address the issue that was worrying me. I'd been doing a lot of thinking over the last few days. I couldn't lie to myself; I wanted Eric, I wanted a chance at a relationship with him, but without the vampire politics. Trouble was, that just wasn't an option. It would be like trying to eat a candy bar without the calories.

"I really don't want to go to this Summit," I began.

He had his serious face back on, and nodded to show that he understood what I was saying.

"But if it's real important to you, I will." I tried not to sound as reluctant as I felt. I was on the verge of launching into a list of conditions, but something made me pull back. It was a relationship we were meant to be discussing, not an international peace treaty.

"Good," he said, "that is good." Then after a long pause, "It is important to me, Sookie. I would not ask you if it were not."

"I'm just nervous, you must understand, after what happened before." I wanted him to see things from my point of view.

"I do realise that, but New Orleans is not New York, and besides Pam and I will be with you. There's really nothing to worry about." As he was speaking, he took my hand in his and began to trace small circles on my palm. I wasn't expecting the reaction it provoked, a hot flush flooding my whole body.

"Do relationships always involve this much discussion?" he continued, sounding concerned. "I'm sure things were never like this in my human days."

I gave a little snort of supressed laughter. I didn't know a lot about Vikings, and I'm sure they got a bad press, but my impression was that they were pretty much only one step up from Neanderthals and that their idea of seducing a woman was to throw her over one shoulder and carry her home screaming. I didn't say that, not wanting to offend him. Instead, I just commented that things had probably changed a lot in the past thousand years.

Eric decided that he'd had enough of talking. I could tell from the way his eyes seemed to darken and his expression changed from serious to something almost predatory. He leaned in close, and I knew he wanted to kiss me. If you'd ever kissed Eric you'd know it wasn't an easy thing to resist.

I let him lie me down on the couch, ignoring the loose spring which dug into my back. He tangled his fingers deep into my hair and dusted soft kisses across my forehead and my cheeks, before moving in for his real target. I was so ready for him. My hands were on his shoulders and if my nails had been any longer I would probably have drawn blood, I was gripping him so tightly. I guess vampires can probably kiss for ever, if they want to, as they don't have to breathe. Unfortunately I couldn't and eventually I had to push him away. As he raised his head a few inches from mine he seemed to be searching for some kind of understanding in my face.

"I want you, Sookie," his voice was dark and low, his accent more pronounced than usual. "Let me take you home."

I considered whether that was a good idea for all of two minutes. The truth was I'd missed him, and I wanted him, and I was a grown woman, so all in all I figured I could do this. I insisted on my home, not his though. At least that put me in some kind of control, and besides I had to work the next day.

We didn't talk much on the drive back to Bon Temps. Eric grumbled about being crammed into the passenger seat of my old car, and urged me to drive faster, even though it was rattling fit to break into pieces. He promised to glamour any traffic cops we might come across but that wasn't what worried me.

We were barely through the front door when he had me up against the wall in a fierce embrace. He had a lot of lust pent up inside of him, and so did I. I'd had a taste of him before, but now I wanted so much more. I fumbled with the buckle of his belt while he pushed my skirt up and disposed of my panties in true vampire style. Neither of us had time for foreplay, we were both too ready. The walls of the house shook and my gran's old occasional table didn't survive the onslaught. I felt bad about that – she'd inherited it from her great-gran and it was one of my few genuine family heirlooms I possessed.

Both of us came together, very loudly. Eric held me tightly, my legs still wrapped around his hips. When the aftershocks had finally subsided he whispered, "Let's go upstairs." I manoeuvred myself out of his embrace, and took his hand.

"Was I too rough?" he asked as he pulled the remains of my dress over my head. He was already naked, and completely unselfconscious about it, in the way the vampires seemed to be.

I was a little sore, but I didn't care. He promised to be gentle and was as good as his word as he lowered himself onto the bed beside me and began to slowly kiss his way up the inside of my right leg. By the time he reached his target I was quivering with lust, but he dragged out the anticipation, using his tongue and his fingers in that talented way he has: pushing me almost to the peak of excitement, then pulling back, making me moan with frustration.

I heard the soft click as his fangs ran down, and he looked up at me, asking for permission. As he bit hard into my inner thigh, I came just as powerfully as if he had been deep inside me.

He stayed almost until dawn. It was wonderful not to have to rush, we spent the hours just exploring each other's bodies. I found a few sensitive spots on his hard, muscular frame, and he found plenty on mine.

"When we return from New Orleans we will have more times like this together, I promise." We were both sated, but he held me in his arms for the longest time. It sounds crazy, after all he was a stone cold killer who could tear me limb from limb, but I felt safer than I ever had in my life.

* * *

><p>Now I'd agreed to go to New Orleans it meant I needed a new wardrobe; just when I'd sworn that I would never force myself into skin-tight dresses and heels so high I could barely stand ever again. Pam was delighted at the prospect, she arranged to meet me at Pierre Bossier Mall to help me select some outfits.<p>

"I am very glad that you and Eric have resolved your differences. You seem to make him happy," she sounded pleased, if a little surprised. "If he is happy, then I am contented." I guess with Pam it is all about her.

"I still don't know if it can work," I confessed. "Everything about us is just so different, but I'm determined to give it a go."

"That is good, he admires you, and he trusts you. You should be grateful for that."

I had a horrible sinking feeling as I realised that there was something real important about me which Eric didn't know yet. I would need to tell him soon, and I wondered how he would take it.

Pam didn't seem to notice my distraction, and turned her attention to the serious business of my wardrobe. The formal outfits she insisted on aged me about ten years, but I had to defer to her judgement. She had been at court in New Orleans, and I hadn't, as she reminded me. "Indeed, you have never been to a proper vampire court before," She made it sound as if I had missed out; which wasn't exactly how I saw it.

I started to point out that I had lived with the King of New York for well over a month, but she dismissed that. "Pah, that wasn't a real court. Did he have courtiers, armed guards, servants? Did he hold audiences?"

Of course I had to admit that wasn't really Auguste's style. He had been a creature of the twenty-first century, in his business dealings if not in his attitude towards women.

* * *

><p>On the journey down, Pam and Eric filled me in with more details of the political situation. I knew that Alfredo had refused to give up his position as regent of Louisiana. Now he'd found some demon lawyer – a real demon apparently – who could prove that he was entitled to inherit the Kingdom of New York and all its possessions. I felt just a frisson of fear when they said that – what if he tried to prove that New York's possessions included me?<p>

"Don't look so worried, Sookie," Pam put a soothing hand on my shoulder. "Part of the agreement preceding the Great Revelation was that vampires were no longer able to lay claim to humans in that way."

"That's real reassuring to know," I replied, sarcastically.

"Not everyone agrees with that interpretation," Eric added, quite unhelpfully.

Ranged against Alfredo was an unholy alliance between the Kings of Mississippi, Arkansas and Nevada. According to Eric each had previously considered moving against Sophie-Anne but had held back for fear of the consequences of a forced overthrow. Now they had decided to work together to unseat Alfredo and then divide the state up between them.

Even I could see the flaw in that plan. There was only one thing really worth having in our state: New Orleans. Everything else was pretty much worthless; poor, backward, prone to natural disasters. I'd be very happy to see Alfredo out of the way, but the alternative was never going to be stable. Whoever got New Orleans would control the state and would surely force the others out eventually.

"What would this mean for you?" I asked Eric.

"It all depends who gets New Orleans, and who gets Northern Louisiana. Russell Edgington or Peter Threadgill I could probably work with, but Felipe de Castro is quite another kettle of fish."

Pam laughed at the old fashioned expression, but Eric silenced her with a fierce stare. As he turned back to focus on the road he patted my hand gently, I guess he was pleased that I was concerned about him.

* * *

><p>We arrived too late to do anything but unpack and settle into our rooms. I had been hoping for some quality time with my vampire honey, but that would have to wait. It seemed that our relationship was officially recognised though as we got to share a suite. It was as big as a family apartment with a master bedroom, two guest bedrooms and a living room. Our walk in bathroom had matching his and hers vanity units, I liked that. The only thing that marked it out as unusual were the travel coffins which had travelled down with us in case Pam or Eric needed to be moved in daylight hours.<p>

On Eric's advice, I didn't leave the suite the next day, just watched TV and ordered a late lunch from room service. When Pam and Eric rose we helped each other dress. Eric had chosen the same suit he'd worn for the ill-fated summit at Fangtasia. It looked wonderful, of course but I wasn't sure that it would bring us good luck. He let me braid his hair, and pronounced himself satisfied. Pam did mine; I think she liked playing with me, as if I were her human Barbie-doll.

There was a large crowd of vampires and their human entourages waiting when we reached the main reception area. It seemed they had been waiting for us. Two tall guards stood at the entrance to the presence chamber, dressed in elaborate uniforms of red and gold. "Attention" they called and everyone was instantly silent, "The Louisiana Sheriffs are called on to join the panel of elders and the Ancient Pythoness and hear the arguments of the claimants." They spoke in perfect harmony, their deep voices echoing around the room.

Eric left us with an encouraging smile and a brief kiss on the cheek for me. I stuck close to Pam, suddenly feeling very nervous. What if Alfredo was allowed to keep his position? What if he came after me? What if whoever won the day decided they didn't want to keep Eric on as Sheriff of Area Five? There were just too many things to worry about. That was probably the reason I didn't hear the approach of the vampire guard until he was at my shoulder.

"Northman's human is required," he announced, as if I were some unimportant file which had been left behind. Pam pulled a face. I'm not sure if she was insulted not to be invited in with me, or worried because she knew what might happen.

I could see the bright fabric of my dress reflected in a hundred mirrors as I took my lonely walk along the carpet to the end of the long room. None of the vampires turned to look at me, but I was certain that every single one of them could hear the beating of my heart. Was my fate about to be decided?

At the end of the long red carpet, Eric was waiting, as a groom might wait for his bride. He turned to look at me, but he didn't look happy and that made me even more nervous.

In front of us was the creature I knew as the Ancient Pythoness. Her querulous voice broke the silence. "Where is my little Fae? I know she is here, come forward girl."

I looked around, wondering who she was talking about; then felt the hard prod of Eric's fingers in my back. I turned around to scowl at him, but he was gesturing to me to step up to the dais.

"Ah, I knew you were here," she said as I approached.

"My name is Sookie, Ma'am," I said politely, "not Fay". I didn't want to seem unkind as I knew that seniors often got confused about names and that kind of thing.

She gave me a toothless smile and held out hands that were little more than claws. I let her grasp mine in a tight grip and she pulled me closer, sniffing the air around me. Then she let go, and I stepped back to join Eric.

"It is true, then." she said, leaving me none the wiser as to what was going on.

"Northman," she continued, gravely, "I was informed that you have taken this woman as your human companion, is this true?"

Eric confirmed that he had with a low bow, but he still looked concerned, and I wondered if something was making him have second thoughts.

"You realise how special she is to us, she must be protected. Can I rely on you to do this? You must not fail us."

Eric nodded again and reached out to take my hand. I was desperate to know what was going on but I knew better than to speak up in front of the other vampires, it would have to wait until we were alone. We didn't have to wait long to be dismissed, along with the other four Sheriffs. The Ancient Pythoness and the elders remained behind to consider their verdict on the future of Louisiana.

"Our room, now," I hissed at Eric as soon as we got outside. I'm sure he could tell from the look on my face that I wasn't thinking about sex.

"What was that all about?" I demanded, as soon as we were alone.

"Do you remember the gold necklace you said belonged to your Grandmother?"

I gave a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"The pattern on it is the emblem of the Fairy Prince Niall Brigant. It is very distinctive, I recognised it at once."

My mouth was probably hanging open at that point. I was getting used to the existence of supernaturals now, but a fairy prince sounded like something out of Disney, and what on earth did he have to do with me. That was what I asked Eric next.

"I believe you are descended from him. You are mainly human, it is true, but the blood of the Fae runs in your veins."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This was just too crazy for me to process.

"How long have you known this about me?" I could barely bring myself to look at him.

He didn't answer immediately, and I just knew that he was considering how much of the truth to tell me.

"Eric Northman, there is a very good chance that I'll never speak to you again, but if you hold anything back, it will become a one hundred percent certainty."

"The Fae are an ancient supernatural race who once walked the earth in large numbers. There are very few left now who have the pure blood, but over the years many have mated with humans. Their beauty is such that they can seduce any human they choose, and some have chosen to do so in order to preserve at least an element of their lineage. Fairy blood is quite intoxicating, if it is too strong it can drive a vampire wild. Most younger vampires don't recognise it of course, even though they feel the effects, but I am old enough to have tasted a full-blooded Fae. I knew that first night I tasted you, at Fangtasia, that there was a hint of Fae in your blood. When I saw the necklace, I was sure of it."

"So why didn't you tell me this straight away?"

"I wasn't sure you would be able to handle the knowledge," he added patronising to the list of grievances I was building up against him.

There were plenty more questions I could have asked him, but I was too angry and upset to stay another minute in his company.

"What about trust, Eric? What about sharing? I thought we would have no secrets." The whole floor could probably hear me yelling, but I didn't care. I tried not to slam the door after me though, as I stalked across to the guest bedroom.

I lay awake for hours trying to process the information he had given me. Who in my family could possibly have had contact with a Fairy, it just seemed so unlikely, in Bon Temps of all places. I remembered the family tree in the file Auguste kept on me. Someone had put a star and a question mark next to my Grandmother's name, could it be her? Was my strange heritage the reason for my telepathy, but if it was why didn't Jason have the same gift, or curse? There were just too many questions I couldn't answer.

* * *

><p>The next night I got up early and dressed myself. I still couldn't face Eric; or Pam for that matter. Had he told her about me – she'd never given any indication but I didn't think they had many secrets from each other. I knew I would have to talk to him eventually but I wanted to put it off until I felt calmer.<p>

The vampires mostly hadn't risen yet or were still feeding in the private rooms set aside for the purpose. The human entourages were out in force though, and a vampire band was performing a pre-supper set. Once I got downstairs I started to feel uncomfortable, and regretted my haste. I was out of my depth here, and I knew that could get me in to trouble. I don't know whether something of last night's events had leaked out, but I seemed to attract a lot of interest. So when a young guy came over to ask me for a dance, I agreed, hoping it would take my mind off worrying what I would do when Eric and Pam finally made an appearance. It didn't hurt that he was tall, dark and handsome: a cliché, but true. He was also as very good dancer and I had a brief, childish, hope that Eric might walk in and see us. It would have given me some short-lived satisfaction to make him jealous.

Maybe my anger made my shields weak, or maybe the guy was an exceptionally strong broadcaster, but his thoughts came over loud and clear. Not for the first time I was glad of my years of practice in keeping a straight face. He was thinking how his king would be real pleased if he could deliver me up after the takeover, and maybe he'd get to have me once I'd served my purpose. His thoughts were uncomfortably graphic, but I couldn't pull out of the dance without making him suspicious.

I probed a bit deeper to discover that he was part of the entourage of Felipe de Castro, King of Nevada. The king wasn't planning on waiting for the verdict of the Ancient Pythoness and the elders. He wanted Louisiana and he wasn't about to share it with, to use his own words, '_a weakling and a queer_.' So he had a large force gathering outside the court, and at the appointed time they would attack and dispose of all his enemies, leaving him in charge.

By the end of the dance my heart was pounding. I hoped that if my partner noticed he would put it down to the exertion, or maybe to the effect of his charms. There was only one thing I could think to do. I had to tell Eric, even though that meant crawling back to him with my tail between my legs. This wasn't a time for false pride, if I didn't tell someone we would all die.

I excused myself to go to the ladies room, but instead hurried back to intercept Eric. He was just about to leave so I hustled him back into our suite and gabbled out my story.

"How do you know this?" his eyes were narrow with suspicion.

I cast around desperately for some credible explanation, but came up with nothing. I was going to have to tell him the truth. I tried to stop myself from shuffling from foot to foot like a naughty school-girl.

"There's something I haven't told you about myself," I said, unable to meet his eyes. If I had I'm sure I would have seen a look of triumph, as it rang clear in his voice when he replied.

"Do tell, dear one,"

"Well, I don't know if it's on account of me being part-fairy, or what the reason is, but the thing is, I can read people's minds. At least I can hear their thoughts and sense their emotions."

"Interesting. Do you have this power over all creatures?" his tone was silky smooth, but there was just a hint of menace.

"Oh no," I gabbled, "only humans. Well, Sam Merlotte I can hear a bit, but it's all tangled up and unclear, more emotions than thoughts. But I can't hear vampires at all – not even a hint." I was very definite on the last point.

"And you chose to keep this from me because…?"

The way he was dragging this out made me feel about six inches tall. I hated him for being so unkind, but then I hated myself for not having told the truth before now. "I know I should have told you, but it was just never the right time. I've never really told anyone. My Gran knew of course and my brother Jason, but then he was always trying to persuade me to use it do bad things. If the authorities ever found out I'm sure they would have …I don't know, subpoenaed me, commandeered me or something….I just know my life would never have been my own again." I was using all the wrong words, and probably not even making sense.

"You could have trusted me though. We could have worked together with this knowledge." He sounded more sorrowful than angry.

He paced the room for a while. I didn't need to be able to read his mind to know he was thinking; he was wondering how to react and what this meant for our relationship. I was pretty much wondering the same thing myself. For all my talk about trust, we'd both kept a pretty big secret from each other, and that wasn't a good thing.

"What about trust, Sookie?" he quoted my own words from the night before back at me, and I thought I would burst into tears.

"Well it seems we are even, would you agree?" He waited for a nod of agreement from me, before continuing. "We should not waste any more time, we need to inform the authorities." With that he grabbed my hand and headed off in the direction of the elevator.

The Ancient Pythoness didn't seem too surprised by the news; in fact I would almost have said that she was expecting it. She was very interested in how I knew though, so I had to confess my secret. Her sightless eyes and wizened face gave no clue to her reaction.

"The Fae are very powerful, more powerful than we realise," she said, gravely. "Even a part-Fae as you are will have abilities that are more than human. Your telepathy may only be one. You must test yourself, little one, discover your true strengths."

I glanced at Eric who was looking thoughtful, but we didn't get the chance to ask any more questions. Our time with the Ancient Pythoness was up and we were dismissed.

The royal compound was going into some kind of lock-down as troops of heavily armed vampire guards marched the corridors. They carried stakes and silver nets in their gloved hands. All of the humans and most of the other vampires seemed to have fled, and Eric and I followed them, not even taking the time to go back and collect our things.

We found out more about what had happened in the car on the way back to Shreveport. Pam had managed to seduce one of the Ancient Pythonesses' handmaidens. They were meant to be virgins, but Pam had convinced her that sex with another woman didn't count, and besides if you're a vampire virgin, you just regenerate. She'd made sure to get the whole story before she left.

Felipe de Castro and his entourage had been sent packing back to Nevada. To Eric's surprise he'd avoided being stripped of his kingdom, apparently the elders decided that too many strong kings and queens had been lost recently, and he was let off with the vampire equivalent of a final warning.

In the carve up that followed, Peter Threadgill got New Orleans and the south of the state, and Russell Edgington got the north, so he would be Eric's new boss.

Alfredo's lawyer had been worth his money. He had somehow managed to persuade the elders that he had the right to inherit the Kingdom of New York. He'd disappeared off to reclaim his kingdom and his half-brother's business empire.

It seemed that everyone was settled, except for Eric and me. You could say we were even, we'd both kept secrets from each other after all, and now they had been revealed, but it didn't feel comfortable. He didn't seem angry with me, just disappointed. I wasn't angry with him either, not any more. It felt like we'd gone full circle though, from mistrust, to trust and back again. Why did relationships have to be so difficult? I knew that deep down I wanted him, and I think he wanted me too, but was that enough.

I reached out tentatively to touch his hand, wondering if he would reject me. To my relief didn't, he took my small hand in his big one and just held it for a long while, saying nothing. Then he looked at me and smiled, and I felt a wave of reassurance flood though me. Maybe we could work things out after all.


	17. Chapter 17

Sam Merlotte had sacked me. I couldn't believe it. I had to repeat it over and over in my head before it really sank in. I'd come full circle. I'd got involved with the vamps to try to save my home, and now, as a result, I was threatened with losing it all over again.

He'd said he hadn't wanted to and I knew that was true. He'd been thinking how he wished things had turned out differently, and how he hated that I was mixed up with 'that bloodsucker'. I wondered if that might have influenced his decision.

The reason he gave was that I just wasn't reliable enough. He didn't blame me for going to help Hadley – she was family after all – but hightailing it down to New Orleans and coming back two days later than I'd said I would was the final straw. He clearly thought that was just some kind of vacation for me.

It was true that I hadn't gone back to work immediately but I thought I had a good reason for that. It's not every day you find out that the people you thought were your family were nothing of the sort, or at least not all of them. Sam should have understood that, being not entirely human himself. Maybe he would have done, if I'd been willing to share my new knowledge with him, but I wasn't. The truth was I hadn't come to terms with it myself yet.

That wasn't the only thing it was a challenge to come to terms with. My relationship with Eric was less of a circle and more a tortuous winding path. There were times when I thought I'd found the perfect boyfriend, and not just because of the great sex. He hated the term 'boyfriend' of course, pointing out that it was quite inappropriate for someone with over a thousand years' experience. That only showed if you looked deep into his eyes. On the surface he could pass for twenty-eight, maybe thirty-five tops. Maybe it was on account of his experience but he had endless patience and seemed quite fascinated by the ordinary details of my life. I had to remind myself often that this was Eric Northman, vampire politician, arch-manipulator and stone-cold killer I was talking about.

The fact was that when we got back from New Orleans he was the only one I could really open up to. We'd spent two full nights just talking. We sat on the old couch in my living room, me wrapped in an old afghan against the chill of the hours before dawn.

"You seem distracted," Eric commented, proving that he could be observant when he wanted to be. That was another point in the 'good boyfriend' column.

"I just can't believe my Grandmother would cheat, it's just…" I trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

We'd both agreed that all the evidence - the gold bracelet and Auguste's files – pointed to my Grandmother being the human link to my Fae heritage. I just couldn't imagine what had possessed her to do such a thing.

"You've led a sheltered life Sookie, if you don't realize these things happen all the time." He sounded very matter of fact about that, which I marked down as a point in the 'bad boyfriend' column.

"You didn't know her. She and Grandpa were about the happiest couple you could ever hope to meet. She told me once that she loved him as much on the day he died as when she had first met him."

That had brought a tear to my eye at the time, and a little one threatened to fall again. Eric reached to wipe it away then ruined the effect by licking his finger. He had a bad habit of doing that.

"There's another thing…"

I hesitated, but Eric gestured to indicate that I should continue.

"It's about that old woman."

"The Ancient Pythoness?" he supplied her full title.

"She said I would have powers, but what do you think she means?"

"If she believes it, I expect it to be true. She is reputed to be the oldest vampire still living – she was an Oracle in ancient Greece and it is her powers of prophecy that make her so revered among the vampires today. Perhaps you should attempt to discover what these powers are, I will test you if you wish."

However hard I tried though I couldn't levitate, or move things across the room, or transform even the most basic object into something else.

The conversation was making my head hurt. I'd always thought I was so normal; or at least normal for Bon Temps, despite my 'disability'. Now I didn't know where to start. I decided it would be best to focus on the practical.

"I need to get a job, otherwise I'm right back where I started."

"Perhaps if I might suggest…" Eric said, sounding far too hopeful.

I cut him off. "I'm not working for you in Fangtasia." I was quite determined on that point.

"There are other job opportunities in Shreveport. I have many contacts in the vampire and the human communities, people who owe me favors. If you tell me what you would like to do, I will seek out an opportunity for you. What about interior design, I seem to remember you have a talent for that?"

I took a pointless swat at his arm as a punishment for being sarcastic, but he carried on talking for long enough to convince me that he meant it.

Using Eric's influence to get a job made me feel real uncomfortable, especially as I didn't want to be surrounded all the time by people's nasty thoughts about how I'd got where I was. "I don't want you pulling strings for me," I told him, ignoring the look of disbelief and the shake of his head, "if there's a vacancy, I'll be interviewed like anyone else."

If all else failed, I could always find work as a cleaner. I was a good cleaner, Gran's standards were very high after all, and I'd done a lot of cleaning after she had died. It helped me deal with the bad things in my life, as if washing away the dirt would wash them all out of my mind.

Eric found an opportunity for me with suspicious ease. Pumphrey Inc was one of Shreveport's premier Real Estate firms. They specialized in upscale properties, gated communities around the lakeside and old plantation houses in the small towns that surrounded the city. The houses needed to be 'dressed' to look their best for sale or rental and that was where I would come in.

I went along for the interview – what the heck. Pam helped me choose a suitable outfit, a smart black skirt suit with a white blouse, and black patent pumps. I was going to have to get used to a lifetime of uncomfortable clothes if this was to be my new career.

"Thank you for coming in," the woman behind the desk said as I took in the fancy office on the corner of the fifteenth floor with views on both sides out over the city as far as Cross Lake. She had dark hair twisted up in a neat French pleat and was perfectly groomed. The look on her face didn't match her words though so I listened in. I know it's rude, but she'd been rude to me.

I wasn't totally surprised to find out that I was the only candidate, and that they were strangely willing to overlook my complete lack of experience. She quickly revealed that her firm was keen to expand into the vampire market, on account of the older vamps usually being seriously rich. They hoped that my connection to Eric would be useful to them. For herself, she was hoping for a more personal connection.

I was sure that it would be useful to Eric too; color me suspicious, but it occurred to me that he wouldn't be at all unhappy to have me help him keep track of who was buying property in the area. I know I should have been angry about that, but I'd realized by now just how complex and dangerous vampire politics could be. He would need all the information available to him just to stay safe. Since my safety, and Pam's, and a whole bunch of other people depended on that I figured it would have been small-minded to complain.

The new job started pretty much immediately. I had my own office, and a secretary. That was very strange, having someone to run errands for me, pick up my lunch and sort my dry cleaning. I made a point of being real nice to all the secretaries and receptionists. For once my disability was an advantage. They thought I was sweet and sympathetic, not like that hard-faced bitch Selah Pumphrey who thought she was something special just because Daddy owned the firm.

It took a while to adjust and settle in, but gradually I found that I enjoyed it. I was good too. Being able to listen into the clients helped, and for once I didn't feel guilty. They might say they wanted the minimal look because they'd seen it in a magazine and it was all the rage, but if they really wanted cushions and chintz that's what I would give them. The lovely Selah didn't take to my success at all well – I seriously considered whether finding her a vampire lover would improve her mood but right now there just wasn't a suitable candidate for her tastes, which ran to tall and dark.

A big positive for my new job was that it allowed Eric and me to spend more time together. I'd been determined that he should come visit with me in my old farmhouse, but now I was working in Shreveport it was a lot easier to go back to his place. It was hard to complain about that. Even by the standards of the houses I was helping to sell, his home was exceptional. From the front it didn't look much, a plain frontage hidden behind a high wall and electric gates. The rear view was something else entirely. Huge picture windows opened up onto a lakeside view. We only got to see it at night of course; during the day huge light tight shutters kept the house safe for him.

If you asked a hundred people what they expected Eric's place to be like I'm sure ninety-nine would predict something cool and minimal; Scandinavian and masculine like him; all wood, leather and chrome. He'd chosen the complete opposite: jewel bright, vibrant shades and sumptuous fabrics. Maybe Pam had a hand in it, or maybe Eric just liked to confound expectations. The effect was quite stunning. Unlike Auguste, he didn't conduct any business there, preferring to keep it solely for pleasure.

When there was business to be done, it took place in Fangtasia. He'd kept the cellar furnished as it had been for the summit, although it was a constant battle to hold back the damp. That was where we had our first meeting with Russell Edgington.

The King of Mississippi was a small man; I had several inches on him in my new heels. I didn't let that fool me though; it was clear from Eric's body language that he was a vampire who commanded respect. He arrived with a small entourage and his own security – I think they came from the same firm that supplied Auguste as they all had the same heavy build, cropped hair, dark suit and dark glasses. Perhaps there was a factory somewhere turning them out.

I don't think the King was too happy to have me sit in on their meeting, but Eric said he could bring his human companion as well if he wished. I could have laughed out loud, I knew exactly why he'd set things up like that: Mr. Manipulation.

Talbot was taller than his vampire lover and exceptionally handsome. He was also a very strong broadcaster, which was how I knew that his first thought was whether Eric might, uh, 'swing both ways' as he so tastefully put it. He wasn't too impressed with me; I was too fat and too unsophisticated in his opinion. I'd plead guilty on both counts, but you know what, I didn't care.

The talk quickly moved to the new arrangements for governing vampire affairs in Louisiana. Russell seemed dismissive of his co-ruler Peter Threadgill, and Talbot's thoughts confirmed that. Just like Felipe de Castro, he thought the King of Arkansas a weakling, and was furious that he'd been given New Orleans. Talbot was, if anything, more furious. He'd been looking forward to lording it over the royal compound, and now they had to make do with a town house in Baton Rouge.

They had no immediate plans for a challenge though. Russell just wanted to be assured of Eric's loyalty. I wished I had some way of communicating with Eric that there was no immediate threat but the best I could do was to smile and look reassuring. That seemed to work, as there was a subtle change in Eric's attitude and I could sense him relax.

"You set me up for that," I said, after our guests had left. I hadn't meant to sound quite so accusatory but I did.

Eric shrugged. "You have a talent, Sookie, does it hurt you to use it?"

He had a point, I guess.

"You need to trust me with this," he continued, "if something is in my interests, it will most likely be in your interests as well, that is if we are a couple."

Trust Eric to hit the nail right on the head. I wanted a relationship based on trust after all, and that had to work both ways. "Fine, but next time, just warn me in advance. I won't give anything away, not unless you want me to."

He flashed me that brilliant smile, the one I really should learn to be wary of. Trouble was it just made me go weak at the knees.

There was no sign of any of our other potential enemies. Eric seemed to have contacts everywhere and received regular reports. Felipe was preoccupied with his business interests in Las Vegas. Vampires aren't officially allowed to own casinos, and the regulatory authorities were doing a lot of digging into the front companies he'd set up to disguise his business interests.

Alfredo was apparently very happy consolidating his power in New York. It seemed he was showing the same lack of judgment that he'd demonstrated during his brief stint in charge in New Orleans. His administration of justice was arbitrary and he demanded too much in 'taxation'. I hadn't entirely wasted my weeks in Auguste's apartment, I'd done a lot of reading and I was confident I knew more about how the world worked, but even without my new-found knowledge I could tell that Alfredo's approach would win him no friends.

That train of thought brought me onto the subject of Auguste. I couldn't help feeling just a little bit guilty about having him wind up in prison. I know he deserved it, and I know if I hadn't done it I would have wound up some kind of sex slave, but still it didn't sit right with me. He wasn't really bad, at least not for a vampire. His obsession with me was kind of scary though and I did wonder how safe that vampire jail was.

Every day it felt as if my old life was slipping away. I made a few last ditch attempts to maintain my links to the human world. We tried a double date with Tara and her new beau. She'd finally ditched 'Eggs' Benedict, after one swingers' party too far, when he'd tried to persuade her into a threesome with Jan Fowler, Bon Temps own gay divorcee. The thought disgusted me and I could tell how badly it had affected her. Now she had taken up with JB du Rone, who was probably the handsomest guy in Bon Temps – I'd say it was a close contest between him and my brother Jason – but it was almost as close a contest for who had the fewer brain cells. To be fair JB would win that race by a few yards.

The night wasn't exactly a success. JB was too dumb to realize that Eric was a vampire and gave us the benefit of his distinctly old-fashioned views on the subject of the un-dead. Tara was mortified by his ignorance, but was too scared to intervene.

"You've changed so much, Sookie," she whispered as we hugged goodbye, "I feel like I don't really know you any more."

After that experience, we didn't go out so often. Our working hours didn't always overlap and I much preferred to use the time we did have together sitting and talking – well maybe not always talking. My favorite spot was the hot tub, in the summer room down by the lake.

There was so much to talk about. I could listen to Eric forever; he was like a living history lesson. It was easy to feel intimidated, hearing about all the people he'd known in his long existence. How on earth could I compete with Queen Elizabeth the First, or Lucretia Borgia, or even Marilyn Monroe?

Sometimes I just couldn't resist getting my own back by teasing him.

"Eric, there's something I've been wondering."

"Really, dear one, do tell," he didn't sound that interested, preferring instead to lavish attention on my breasts.

"There are so many ways a vampire can spend their existence, how come you spend yours in a run-down bar in Shreveport."

He sat up so abruptly I knew I'd offended him. "Fangtasia is not run-down. Besides, it is only one of my business interests," he almost snorted with disgust.

"Okay, I'm sorry I insulted the club but even so, Shreveport is hardly the most happening city you could choose.

"If you must know, Auguste Cesario was not the only vampire who I …upset…over the centuries."

"So you need to lie low?"

He nodded. "Besides," he added, "you must have noticed that the attrition rate for vampire rulers is really unacceptably high."

I'd never had that word on my calendar so I just looked puzzled, and he had to explain it to me. When he had I could see his point. He could have put himself forward as a candidate for King of Louisiana at the summit, but there was a lot of sense in not drawing too much attention to himself.

Then something else clicked into place for me. "So Eric, these other business interests, they wouldn't include real estate would they?"

He had the grace to look just a little shamefaced. That didn't last though, as he turned the tables on me with a question I'd never expected.

"Sookie, I think you should marry me." He made it sound so matter of fact, like some regular every day event, not the most important question a girl expected in her life.

I was speechless for several minutes, before I pointed out that we hardly knew each other. I mean I liked him, and I certainly had big lust for him but I'd always thought that if I ever did meet a guy I liked we'd date for a year or two, then maybe get engaged, then married a while after that, once we were sure.

That didn't seem to concern Eric; he evidently wasn't the romantic type.

"You must be realistic, Sookie. You know that you will never really escape the vampire world. You need someone who can protect you. I am strong enough to do that, and besides, I care for you."

It may be unfair, but 'care' didn't sound to me like the kind of emotion to build a long-term relationship on. I'd hoped for 'adore' or 'idolize', or at the very least 'love'. He was coming from another place entirely and I told him so, sounding rather sulky.

"This idea is so modern and so dangerous. Look where it got Pam."

That sounded mysterious and I wanted to know more, but it would have to wait for another day as Eric was still expounding on his theme – I didn't need my 'Word a Day' any more as the books in his house were full of long and complicated words for me to learn.

"In my day…"

I'm sorry to say that I sighed at that point. Eric could be really quite tedious when he started on about his human life. It always seemed so cold and grey, his undead existence was so much more exciting. Luckily he didn't seem to notice, and continued talking.

"….marriages weren't for love, they were to maintain the community, to forge alliances with neighboring tribes, to ensure an heir…" he looked at little wistful at that point and I felt a pang of sympathy for him.

I guess it was sympathy for myself too. I'd always known I would never have children. It just wouldn't be fair, being able to know everything they were thinking – everyone needs a secret place for their own private thoughts. Besides, what if they inherited my 'disability' and they could hear my thoughts. I guess the only advantage would be that we could have those inevitable teenage tantrums in silence. Whatever, it didn't matter now, as Eric and I could never have children together.

"Sookie are you listening to me?" Eric's voice snapped me back into the present. I gave him an apologetic smile and he nipped my neck in a playful kind of punishment.

It was the kind of punishment I could take a lot more of, and I arched my neck to give him better access. He didn't need any further invitation. His fangs ran down and he bit into my artery. Unless you've ever been bitten, it's hard to explain just how erotic it can be, especially when the one doing the biting has also slipped a finger between your legs, and is stroking you with a persistent and familiar rhythm. I was so accustomed to his touch he could bring me to orgasm in only a few seconds.

After that there was no more talking. I turned in his arms and lowered myself down onto him. It was the position I liked the best, as it gave me some control. I could tease him by slowing the pace right down then, in the next moment, have him deep inside me. Eric liked it too. It gave him access to my breasts and he would use his mouth and his hands to tease me till my whole body was trembled with desire. Then, when neither of us could stand it any longer, he would take control and move my body to the powerful tempo he favored, and I would scream in ecstasy. Eric said I howled like a wolf, which didn't matter, as there were wolves out in the forest on the other side of the lake so the neighbors wouldn't realize. He was wrong about that though. A few days later a letter of complaint arrived from the Homeowners' Association, and after that we took our passion indoors.

I put off answering his marriage proposal and he didn't raise it again. Sitting safely in the arms of my vampire honey, behind the high walls of his property, it was easy to convince myself that we could have a chance of finding happiness. All we really needed was to be left alone. For now things seemed pretty quiet in our little corner of Louisiana; maybe we'd be just fine and dandy. I had to hope that I wouldn't find out I was wrong the hard way.

**END OF PART ONE**

**Well it's the end of part one – there may be a continuation or a sequel – in time, who knows. I've really enjoyed writing this story, and I'm very grateful to teewhy1977 for giving me the idea, and of course to Charlaine Harris for creating the characters. I hope you've enjoyed reading it. **

**If you've made it through to the end, please take a minute to let me know what you think - what you liked, what you didn't like, should there be more? ****Feedback is our only reward in the humble world of fan fiction, and its never too late - even for an older story.**


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